The Leader's Origin
by Pure Gamer
Summary: I led a normal life with my best friend Rayne by my side. We were inseparable until tragically torn apart, but that was then – before the deadly guard force of Callousen enveloped my life in ways I'll never forget. "Your life starts here," they tell me, but it feels more like the end. Soon I learned that Sunyshore wasn't the place I should have escaped from.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

The flat screen TV was a nice addition,_ I think to myself, as I sink into a large recliner. I point the remote at the TV and it blinks to life in perfect high definition. _

_ "Tonight," the anchorman says, "we have the Special Report on Champion Volkner Parley, the Prodigy of Sinnoh, the Phenomenon of The Ages, the only trainer to ever beat all eight gyms, the Elites, and become the Champion in a week – and right out of Trainer School, no less!"_

_ "Yes, he truly is the greatest trainer of all time. And his trusty companion is the strongest Pikachu in existence – he didn't even need another Pokémon! This Volkner has really taken the world by storm, and we all think he is the best – and most handsome – Champion we could ever have." _

I can't help it, my mind wanders while I'm in boring situations. I'm a man of action, I should be out training. The school system is holding me back, keeping me from living out my dream. You don't need to attend Trainer School to become a trainer, that's a lie society convinces you of. Thus, under circumstances I couldn't control and didn't like, I was stuck with ten-through-thirteen-year-olds every day until I can pass the exams. And I, being the mature age of fifteen, was forced to deal with it. But this time around, I wasn't going to fail; I was passing all of my tests effortlessly.

I focused on the chalkboard ahead. "…That's compatible with most Flying Types, but not all." Birdbrain wrote 'Flying' under 'Egg Type.' "Tangled Feet is a rare ability, however. This was originally found with a Pidgey and then found in a Chatot." She wrote 'Tangled Feet' under 'Ability.' "Keen Eye is a common ability, it's found in large hunting Flying Types as well as a few very smart small hunters. Hoothoot, for example."

Okay, that was enough of that.

School definitely counts as a boring situation, even if it is Trainer School and I'm learning about Pokémon. It's just I don't like the whole class, homework, and test thing. That's way too tedious for my liking.

It was raining outside, I noticed. The raindrops rolled down the window, some of them rolling past into unknown realms. Looking out the window farther I saw the ocean; the dark blue waves were splashing harshly on the boulders lining the far side of Sunyshore. The waves looked like they were trying to devour them. A fishing boat lingered out in the ocean, seemingly caught in the storm. Luckily, unlike some Sunyshore rainstorms, it wasn't a harsh one; the boat was safe. Around the boat, the waves looked much calmer, and not like big mouths trying to eat a giant rock.

"Volkner, are you even paying attention?" Birdbrain asked.

Trying my best to appear appalled, I looked at her and said: "Why, yes, Miss Karp."

Birdbrain pursed her lips and gave me her famous death glare. "You better be. Tests are coming up." She turned back to the chalkboard and continued her squawking.

My brother, Fyn, elbowed my side and leaned closer to me. "Do you have to make Miss Karp mad every day?" he asked.

"I think of it as my personal daily mission." I grinned at him as he shook his head and held back a smile. Yeah, I was in Trainer School with my younger brother. Like I said, the class, homework, and test thing wasn't my style.

The dismissal bell rang, and I sprang up out of my desk. Miss Karp taught two classes, the first class and the last class. Thankfully, this was the last class of the day and I was free from the prison called school. Ignoring Birdbrain, I grabbed my mostly empty backpack and scurried for the door. She was still giving out the homework assignment, and her voice went up to a yell as I passed her. Her mistake was the fact she wasn't yelling a threat to me, only the homework. Why would I listen to that?

Barging through the classroom door, sprinting down the hallway, and opening the double-doors the lead to the happy sunbeams welcoming me back outside was my semi-daily routine. And, despite what it may seem like, it was rewarding. Beach weather, even though it's all I've ever known, made me happy; since I lived in Sinnoh's biggest and most popular beach town that was probably a good thing.

One of the downsides of living in Sunyshore was the tourists. What made that even worse was the fact that tourist season was all year round. Wintertime for us was nothing. The only difference being that natives didn't go swimming during winter; even then the beaches are full with tourists soaking up the sun. Busy city life, what are ya gonna do? An upside, however, is that there are plenty of things to do. You can almost always bet that someone you know is at the beach, and if not, there's a whole city's worth of shops and restaurants. That was all First Level, of course.

Sunyshore is made up of two levels: First Level where the beaches, schools, marketplace, things of the like are located. Second Level was made of glass pathways that were first constructed for easy access to the rocky mountain that stood on one side of town. The mountain is where most of the houses in town are, including mine. The pathways consisted of the lighthouse, more homes, and a few random things like 'Mom and Pop' stores.

This was my home. I've been causing trouble around here my entire life. Only ever been to Pastoria twice before, mainly for a family getaway. Otherwise, I've been stuck to Sunyshore. Not as though I'm complaining, since apparently everyone wants to live in Sunyshore. Unless you live in Sunyshore, of course; then, you couldn't care less. Funny how that works. The same goes with the beaches; apparently they're the most beautiful beaches in Sinnoh—because the sand is perfectly creamy, the seashells don't break easily, the ocean is actually blue as opposed to green—but I don't care. People describe them as the most breathtaking thing in the world, but if you look at the same thing forever, it loses its luster. And these beaches don't have any more lusters in them for me.

As I wandered down Main Street towards Long Beach, or otherwise known as Main Beach, a gust of wind blew by. It reminded everyone that a nasty storm had just blown through, even though you couldn't see the remains anywhere in the sky. It was a mystery how that happened so quickly. I made it to the beach, and walked to a volball net and a group of people playing a game. Volball was a sport that involved a net and a Voltorb. The Voltorb would be the ball. Your object is to get the Voltorb on the other side of the net, hoping it would hit the ground. Sometimes the opposing team would hit the Pokémon back over to your side, and your goal was to make sure it didn't touch the ground and to get it back over the net. It sounds a bit repetitive, I know, and it is…But what makes it exciting is that sometimes Voltorb will use Spark and shock the crap out of you. Yes, it's just as hilarious as it sounds.

"Volkner!" My friend Trifler waved at me from the other side of the net. I returned the wave and grinned. Calling a timeout, he ran off the court and up to me. "Hey, joining the game?"

"Of course, give me a second." He nodded and went back to the net. I shed my t-shirt and kicked off my old sneakers along with my socks. Sighing, I looked towards the group of volball players. A few saw me looking and waved me over, so I jogged onto the sand court.

"Volk will serve," said Sheila. She smiled at me whimsically and I took the Pokémon from her. The Pokémon, appropriately nicknamed Spike, made an excited noise. My heart started to pick up speed and I bounced on my toes. I looked at my teammates: Sheila, Kaman, Marine, Darly, and Mace. I knew them quite well, this whole dozen (including myself) would meet up a lot to hang out and play. They were a good team, but the best one was definitely Trifler, and he was my opponent.

"Let's do this!" I yelled and served Spike.

* * *

The sun had just started to set on us as we sat where the waves rolled in and out hastily. We all laughed and made small group talk until it fell silent, until one person said he had to leave and everyone else decided to, as well. I grabbed my stuff and started back into town. Trifler ran up beside me and elbowed me in the ribs.

"Going to see Rayne?" he questioned. I looked at him; he grinned and raised his eyebrows.

"First of all, you look stupid. Second of all, I see Rayne every day. Why's it always a surprise to you?"

"It's not a_ surprise_; in fact, it's the opposite of that. She's your best friend, I get it. Give her a kiss for me, will you?"

I matched his grin and pushed him over. "And you're eating sand, I get it." I smirked at him for a moment and then quickly helped him up. At first he glared at me, but then we started laughing.

"Whatever, man," he chuckled. "Just tell Rayne I said hi, okay? And that she should come hang out. She's been such a loner."

"Well, her dad died; what do you expect?" I asked, getting mildly agitated.

"Yeah, a year ago. She's had her time to grieve and whatever, and now she needs to get back to normal."

Nodding, I said: "I agree, but I'll let her do that on her own. She needs to do what she needs to do. Especially with the stress her mom's giving her about contests and everything."

"Definitely. Alright well, I'll catch you later." Trifler waved and continued down Main. I hung a left and went straight down the center of town towards Back Beach, the small beach that sat at the back of town. No one ever went there, except when someone wanted to throw an alcohol-filled, teenage beach party that I never would attend. So it was nicknamed Dirty Beach, Black Beach, No Man's Beach, or simply and most popularly, Rock Beach since that beach met Sunyshore's mountain and boulders filled the shore.

The boulders were a plus, though. Or at least I thought so. The girl perched on one, drawing away on her notepad—_sketchpad,_ as she would correct me—agreed that boulders were, in fact, a plus. That girl was Rayne, one of the only brunettes in Sunyshore, and my best friend. And by best friend, I mean the only person who kept me sane.

"Hey." I hopped up on the boulder next to her.

"Hey," she replied quickly; too transfixed on her sketchpad and piece of charcoal to speak to me, apparently. She was sketching the sunset.

"Another sunset? Don't you think you've got enough of those?" I smirked.

"It's different every day, Volkner." Annoyance filled her tone, and it made me smirk larger as I stared at her face. Her dark eyes took everything in carefully as she drew and her lips meshed together in-thought. Freckles dotted her cheeks; she hated them, but I loved them. It made her different from every other blonde-haired, blue-eyed, wannabe girl in this town. "You're staring again," she muttered.

"I just can't help it."

"Shut up." She rolled her eyes dramatically then cut them at me. She picked her sketchpad up and cocked her head at it, examining her work. Drawing was Rayne's thing, to say the least. Sometimes she'd even paint something, but drawing was what she was into. She had sketchpads upon sketchpads scattered about her room, and had filled every margin of every book she owned with doodles. She explained it as a tick. She had to do it, or she'd go crazy. And I believed her, especially because I've hardly ever seen her not drawing.

"You like it?" she asked, holding up her drawing proudly. Whenever she spoke about her work, a new, refining tone came about her. It was a different her; the real her.

"Eh, it's alright." I grimaced, and then she shoved me so hard I fell off the boulder. Jumping up, I grinned. "Hey! I'm kidding!"

She laughed, and I copied. Then I grabbed her arm and pulled her off the rock, both of us falling on the sand.

"Volkner Parley!" she exclaimed, holding back a laugh, "treating a _lady_ in such ways? What would your mother think?" I shifted up to my feet.

"You're right, milady," I bowed and gave her my hand. She took it, and I yanked her up. "Better?" She nodded, and we laughed again. She collected her things that had fallen, and then perched back on the rock.

"I wish I could draw a moving picture," she stated randomly.

"Why?" I chuckled.

"Because, when I finish drawing the sunset…It keeps moving. I want my drawings to keep moving, I want to continually capture life."

"Well, you better get on that, huh?"

She slightly smiled and gave me a look. "You're just _so encouraging_. How'd I ever end up with a friend as great as you?"

"I ask myself that every day. How _did_ you get so darn lucky?"

"Says Mister I-Don't-Brush-My-Hair." Rayne muttered.

"Ouch. Someone is sassy today." I touched my messy yellow hair. "And it's a style!"

"Lazy Pokémon style, maybe."

Gasping, I shouted. "Just crush my hopes and dreams, it's all good! And even worse…My style. What's with the insults?!"

Rayne laughed and leaned her head on my shoulder. "Whatever, Boulder Brain."

"Yeah…Can we forget the nickname I acquired when I was a young, handsome lad?" I pleaded.+

"Not a chance, young, handsome lad."

Having gotten that name quite a few years earlier, it was hard for me to shake it. When Rayne and I met, she was sitting on a boulder in Rock Beach, drawing, as usual, and I approached the rock. She said hello, and I got so nervous talking to a girl that I tripped and slammed my forehead on the boulder and had a concussion and headache for the next four days. But during that time Rayne and her mom brought over cookies, and I gained a great friend.

"Hilarious."

"I know," Rayne looked up at me and I grinned at her, wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and then we just sat there for a while, completely silent as we watched the sunset.

* * *

They had just told me the news. How did this happen? Why did this happen? It didn't make any logical sense. Suddenly, my life all came crashing into my skull. You could probably say I was ignorant to think I could go my entire life without bad things creeping in like an evil, demonic bug. But I never thought that way. Now…I felt hopeless. It seemed like there was nowhere to look, nowhere to turn to. I felt like a zombie.

What was life? Not being able to help it, those unwanted thoughts rolled into my mind. However, I was glad they came, because I realized: Life was a moving picture, a perfectly captured moment, a perfectly drawn and put together piece of art. That was life.

And like the waves to the boulders on shore, it was trying to devour me.


	2. Numb

_Chapter One: Numb_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

The air was warm. I imagined this is how it would feel to curl up in an oven. Curling up in an oven sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea, and not the kind of ridiculously stupid idea that you and your buddies get on a boring summer day, but the kind of idea that I wouldn't recommend.

The air-conditioning in the school was broken, making the already small schoolroom feel like some sort of gas chamber. Birdbrain was sweating so much in her thick, nun-like dress that her sweat stains ran down to her elbows in her long-sleeves. It was a painful sight even without the sweat stains, they just successfully added hilarity. She opened up the windows, which did let in a lovely beach breeze from time to time, but the heat was still dreadful. And the ceiling fans were on—not helping the situation in any way, because they were whipping the hot air around you; giving you, in fact, the impression that you were curled up in an oven.

My attention snapped back to the class when everyone flipped open their notebooks and rummaged through them to find a clean page. I did the same, not sure of what was going on, and then Birdbrain started giving the _homework assignment. _I went all year without writing down one assignment, and I was somehow bamboozled into the act on total accident! The thought of simply closing my notebook and making a getaway crossed my mind, but I sighed and grabbed my pencil.

"Volkner Parley," Birdbrain announced, with—for the first time ever—hints of humor in her tone, "are you _writing down the homework assignment? _Are you sick? Should I get a doctor?" She laughed at herself, and it was the first time I had ever heard that nasally, demon-bird noise come from her thin, never smiling lips.

"Not sick, ma'am, I was simply dazed and confused by your mystifying sweat stains. They're quite distracting. Antiperspirant would help keep your clothes from sticking to you skin." The class laughed, and her once humor-filled expression turned back into her normal look of sorrow and death. Her face lit up as bright as a tamato berry.

Feeling accomplished, I stood from my desk, homework assignment in-hand, and strutted over to the door. She said nothing. She didn't even look at me. That was only slightly alarming, because her all-too famous death glare was always her favored comeback. However, I dismissed the alarming thoughts, because it was all too amusing.

Outside of the school the air was so refreshing and clean against my skin. Breezes came by as I walked into town, right on cue, and pushed my sweaty hair off of my face.

Fyn caught up to me, looking winded, and said: "Okay, that was awesome, but…Miss Karp was the most mad I had _ever _seen her." He looked at me with worried eyes.

Smirking, I chuckled, "I know! It's amazing! And, you know, her name, _Karp, _is so incorrect. She shouldn't have the name of a fish. It should be like, Miss Pidgey…No, that's quite the insult to Pidgey's…"

He laughed, his worried look disappearing. Success. I grabbed his dark blonde hair, darker than mine; just like Dad's, and pushed his head to the side. He let out a laugh, "Stop it!" he shouted through laughs. I jabbed his side before letting him go, and he attempted to fix his usually neat hair.

"Anyways, I've gotta go. See ya at home, kid." I started walking backwards down Main to watch him walk up a glass pathway towards home. He waved and grinned, and I returned a smirk. My Little Bro was pretty much the best.

Once I hit the beach, I went towards where it gets grassier and less sandy. There was a perfect dirt path that leads to the woods, where I can easily navigate to one of my favorite places. Along this path there were branching paths leading to the base of the mountain, where many houses sat. I could easily see the side of my house from there. Instead of facing the beach, it faced caddy-cornered to the city. Two houses over, a smaller house with the same white-and-blue color scheme sat; that was my brother Perry and his new wife's home. It once was my grandparents, but now it was theirs. The house in-between has nothing to do with my family, though, I don't know why my ancestors built two houses _not _next to each other, but it was no matter.

Past the branching pathways sat the Contest Academy, attached to Sunyshore's Contest Hall. Nothing interesting was taking place there today. I mean, nothing _interesting _ever happened there, because it's all about stupid contests, but today was just regular classes. There were only two contest halls in all of Sinnoh, one in Hearthome and the other here in Sunyshore. Contests were held all the time in Eterna Forest and Jubilife, and even the annual Contest Champion Festival at the League Building, or so I'm told by Rayne, who is forced to attend the Contest Academy of Hell.

She hated Trainer School, so her parents pulled her out a few years ago. Her mother, who worked at the Academy, tried to coax her into enrolling there, but she refused, and her dad backed her up. She spent two years out of shool, working for a seamstress on Second Level, spending all her free-time enhancing her artistic talent, and she was happy. That was the happiest I had ever seen her. But then her dad died, and to make matters worse, her mother forced her to enroll in SCA. She hates contests with a passion, especially now that she's forced to partake in them every day. She's the strongest person I've ever known, and I don't let her forget that.

Finally, I reached the woods. Trekking through the tall-grass and low branches was easier said than done sometimes, but it was worth it. Deep in the woods stood a shack that was once a small hunting cabin; I assume that it was used for hunting before it was made illegal by a former Sinnoh Champion named Rocky. Then the current champion, Lea, made hunting and eating Pokémon meat legal again. My mother was raised by a strictly vegetarian family and converted my father, so I've never eaten Pokémon meat in my life. More and more people in Sunyshore are partaking in Pokémon hunting and eating. Fishing has always been big here in Shore; they sell the Pokémon in the black markets, usually give them Rare Candy and berry mixes to at least make them appear more powerful so they're bought or traded, or they cook the Pokémon and sell them that way. Now the marketplace is filled with fish heads and "fish burgers" and barbeque Starly. It's actually gross, the more that you think about it. Salads, soups, pastas, vegetarian burgers and wraps were what I preferred. Pokémon were companions and not food.

Approaching the door of the shack, I said: "Open." The door made a mechanical sound as it opened. That was my genius invention. I stepped in, the room was dark because of the wooden boards covered the window. The door automatically shut behind me. I reached up and found a thick string and pulled it. On the other side of the room was a small loft used for storage space. I connected strings from above the doorway to the loft, so when I pulled them, something could slide over to me. A lantern and a pack of matches slid into my hand, and I grabbed them. After lighting the lantern, I maneuvered the string so the matches were placed back on the ledge.

"Pikachu?" I called, and I saw two long ears followed by a sleepy face pop out of a hole carved into a box, underneath my makeshift bed. He sprung out of the box and into my arms, excited and happy to see me. "Hey, Buddy," I scratched the Pokémon's neck. He bounded out of my arms, and looked up at me expectantly. Grinning, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a bag of two fluffy dinner rolls—soaked in honey—one-fourth of my leftover lunch wrap that had gotten a bit too soggy for my liking, and an old cookie for dessert. Pikachu stuck his tongue out in anticipation and shot across the room to grab his metal bowl. He dropped it at my feet and I dumped the contents of the bag in it for him. He began devouring the food, like he had never eaten a day in his life, and I sat at the old workman's bench in the corner.

When I first discovered this place, a long time ago, it was abandoned and dirty. It's still pretty dirty, but now it's mine. I fixed it up, slowly but surely—all on my own, mind you—and even moved some of my stuff from home in here. My parents never even noticed, and still to this day have no idea that my second home is a shack, where I'm housing a Pikachu pretty much illegally. Pokémon aren't supposed to be out of their Pokéballs unless they're battling or performing some other duty, they can't just be out without a reason. But Pikachu was my buddy, I couldn't keep him contained all the time.

One of the first few times I was here in the shack, while the windows were still broken or, in some cases, missing glass completely; Pikachu poked his head in through the glass, and before I knew it, was on my lap trying to eat my sandwich. This surprised me, because for all of my life I was told that Pokémon are dangerous. That's why, in some places in Sinnoh, cities are protected by electric fences or, in the Golden Cities case, giant, two-story walls. But Pikachu changed my look on Pokémon, proving that they're supposed to be _companion _or _partners, _not slaves forced to fight other slaves, as people seem to wrongly think.

From what I've seen, making hunting legal wasn't the only thing Champion Lea affected in his reign. He helped mold a different view of Pokémon for people, telling them they're not pets; they're powerful, dangerous beings. He was from Hearthome, and once he became the big guy he started giving loads of money to Hearthome, and soon the money flow spread to Jubilife and they sort of…_Linked, _becoming the Golden Cities. Hearthome is apparently exclusive with two-story walls separating them from the rest of the world. They happily eat meat, dress obnoxiously, and dilly-dally with things we _peasants _wouldn't understand. Jubilife is the same, except you're allowed to pass through that city. It's not as exclusive. Rayne has visited the cities before, since her mom is a famous Contest Champion, she went over to Hearthome and competed. Rayne told me horror stories of weird color hair, huge dresses and suits, rude people, and French-mix accents that sound faker than the diamonds in the marketplace.

Pikachu finished his meal, in record time, and hopped on my lap and almost instantaneously fell asleep. I grabbed the radio I had constructed out of things I found at the dump, my usual place of discovery, and tuned it to Jubilife Radio. Some soft music was playing through the occasional fuzz, and I moved my attention to my current project: A radon detector. I assumed that since we have an unusual amount of Electric Types around, we must have certain gasses coming from the ground. Though, I could be wrong. That's why I was trying to construct this detector. Although it's difficult when your only sources of getting parts is the marketplace, where you can only hope that some dealer randomly found what you need and didn't overprice it, and the dump, where the stupid dealers throw out my needed parts when their booths got too full.

After messing around with my project—that's all I ever did with my projects, just mess around with them—I reached up to one of my strings hanging above me and pulled it. Pliers, scissors, and a screwdriver fell into my hand. I grabbed the pliers before continuing to mess with my project.

"Volkner?" The voice startled me, but it was only Rayne. "Hey, open up, I baked cookies!"

Grinning, I said, "Open." The door clicked open, and Pikachu left my lap to see Rayne. He may have liked me, but he loved Rayne. She was, in fact, holding a bag full of seemingly chocolate chip cookies. She noted my eyes on the bag and rolled her amusement-filled eyes.

"Here, just take one before your mouth starts watering." Without hesitation, I took the bag and pulled out a warm cookie. Sinking my teeth into the fluffy, gooey goodness that is Rayne's cookies, I smiled at her.

"They're fantastic," I tried to say with my mouth full of cookie.

She smiled, "Thanks," she opened her sketchpad and flipped it around to show me. It was a full-detailed sketch of a full moon over the beach.

"Breathtaking, per-usual."

"The moon was just right outside my window last night, _beckoning _me to draw it." The enthusiasm in her voice made me smile. "It only took me, like, five minutes. If even! I also started drawing my own little comic featuring my Flaffy—why are you looking at me like that?" Her eyebrows drew together, and her brown eyes looked at me inquisitively.

"Just you. You make me happy."

She rolled her eyes, as if to convey that she was annoyed, but I knew better than that. She turned away, closed her sketchpad and crawled up in my makeshift bunk-bed. It was simply put together pieces of wood, with a sleeping bag and plethora of pillows to make it comfortable. And surprisingly, it _was_ comfortable. She sighed once she lay down. "Today sucked," she announced.

"And why's that?" I leaned back in my chair, crossed my legs, and put my hand on my chin, stroking the beard I didn't have, ready to listen. She ignored this.

"Well today we had stupid rehearsals at the Academy of Sucking A Lot, where I got a bad grade that my mom is _totally _going to find out about...Oh, and speaking of my mom, I found out that she's…_Seeing _someone else…" She spoke quickly, a sign that she was getting worked up.

"What do you mean?" Concern filled my tone, I hated it when Rayne felt any distress and I was sincerely concerned. She was basically the only person I ever felt that way for.

"She's _seeing _someone else, who isn't my dad."

"What?! Who?"

"Some contest guy that she's been spending all her time with recently. I don't know." She covered her face with her hands. She spoke slower, which was a good sign. I played with the pliers in my hands, searching for something to say to her, but didn't think of anything good.

"I'm sorry, Rayne."

"It's not your fault…But…I just…"

"I know," I began to say, but she cut me off.

"No, you don't," she said, full of annoyance and dismissal. I wanted to protest, but she continued: "How can you be married to someone for a long time, have kids with that person, and then when they unexpectedly die on you, go _see _someone else?!"

"Well it's been a year, maybe she's just ready to move on," I shrugged, mostly to myself for having nothing else to say, and she sighed angrily.

"You don't understand."

"No, but I can try."

"You're not trying very hard," she murmured.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say," I stood up, about to walk over to her to comfort her, but she sat up quickly, and I stopped.

"I just wish I had someone to talk to…" Her voice was soft and, frankly, weak.

Ouch. "I'm not someone?"

"You know what I mean…Forget it," she got up, Pikachu in her arms, and leaned against the bed. I sat back down, I couldn't help but feel defeated, and looked away. Since her dad died, she was so hesitant to talk to me about _anything_. She used to pour her heart out to me. Now she's so reserved, and the only way I know what she's feeling is by the passing comments she makes. "Maybe one day I'll be able to draw my moving picture." I looked at her again, and regretted looking away from her round, practically perfect face. "Dreams are such a waste, aren't they?" She met my eyes, and I noted the darkness her eyes held. Once upon a time her eyes were bright and happy, now, not so much.

Frowning, I said: "No, Rayne, no they're not. Don't ever say that." This time I stood up and walked over to her. I grabbed her face to examine it, "Are you sick? You seem sick."

A smile tugged at her mouth. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm," she tried a Golden City accent, "_positively mad." _

"They don't sound quite as elegant as you," I laughed.

"Yeah, I'm not French-mix enough, like that Gym Leader Fantina." She rolled her eyes, and I was glad to see herself coming back. But as quickly as it appeared, it left. "Anyways, I should go home." I nodded, and told her I would walk her back. We said goodbye to Pika, and I turned out the lantern, and we left.

* * *

Elyse leapt into my arms as I neared the house. "Volk!" She squealed excitedly. I hugged my little sister against my chest. She was so lightweight that I easily spun her around and held her upside down. Her light blonde hair, twisted into a braid, swung down and almost touched the ground. She giggled, "Pick me up pick me up!"

"Okay!" I brought her back up and folded my arms around her so my hands were at her sides, then I began tickling her. She squirmed, kicked and laughed. I almost dropped her once, but I hugged her tighter and tickled her more.

"Put me down put me down!" She said as best as she could. I stopped and sat her down gently. She was breathless, and stuck her tongue out at me, then busted out in laughter. Her laughter was so contagious, so young and bubbly. And after she laughed too hard, she would get uncontrollable hiccups. Oh, the adorableness of five-year-olds. Of course, she could also be the biggest brat that ever existed, but at times like this she was the best.

Margie, my older sister, was sitting outside of the house; watching over Elyse no doubt. She looked tired. Her hair was only half in a bun, and most of it was sticking to the side of her face with sweat. She looked well over her age—which was only seventeen—and looked like some middle-aged housewife. "How's it going, Gie?" I asked.

She took a large breath at that question. "Well, Aunt Mary's driving me crazy, Mom has been sicker than a dog all day and hasn't left her bed, Elyse has all this energy that just won't burn off—no matter how many times she takes laps around the house—Dad was working all day until a little while ago, which, by the way, your _teacher _stopped by today."

That was new. "Oh yeah? Why?"

She scoffed, "Don't sound so amused, Volkner, this is serious. She threatened to _fail you._"

"Fail me? Did she now?" She gave me a look, since there was still amusement in my tone, and paused.

"You were disrespectful in class today. I asked Fyn if it was true and he said yes."

"Oh, yeah, _that. _Yeah that happened." Shrugging, I started walking to the front door.

"_Volkner," _I stopped and looked over my shoulder. Elyse had ended up in Margie's lap. "Dad isn't going to be happy."

"Then don't tell him."

"She left a handwritten note for him. He probably already read it."

"Really? You couldn't cover for me?!"

_"Again? _The amount of times I've covered for you is ridiculous! This seemed too serious for me to ignore. I'm sorry, but, I had to." Nodding, I entered the house. I wasn't mad at my sister, it was true that she had covered for me _way too many _times, but her motherly instincts did get the best of her today.

The foyer of my house smelled like fresh flowers. Aunt Mary would pick flowers for the four flower vases every week. Normally they were stolen from the neighbor's gardens, but sometimes she would trek out and find them herself. Through the foyer was the kitchen, a good-sized kitchen with a snack bar and multiple windows that let the setting sun's rays seep in and give the room an orange glow. On either sides of the room, it opened into either the living room—I could hear the television on—or the dining room, which was always neat as a pin and we weren't allowed in there except to eat. I saw my dad sitting at the table, looking right at me, like he was waiting for me. I got the urge to run away, but I walked into the dining room.

My dad wasn't an intimidating man, or maybe I just thought that because I grew up with him. He rarely ever yelled or got mad—I think; I mean, I've never seen him successfully convey an emotion so far, so it could be possible that all this time he's been ridiculously angry and I didn't even realize it—and when he did, it was because of something reasonable. The last thing he got angry about was my sister Cirla. She left right after Trainer School to, obviously, be a trainer. She left hastily, and without really talking to anybody, and it's like she dropped off the planet. She sent us all of three letters in the years she has been gone, and the last one, received three years ago, said she was headed to Hoenn to be a trainer over there. We've heard nothing since. That story is all-too common with trainers. Her and I weren't really close growing up, not like me and Margie, so it wasn't too tragic for me, but my parents were crushed. Their oldest daughter abandoned them, basically.

So I took a seat across from my dad. His face was angled exactly like mine, except somehow…Stronger-looking, and at the moment, pretty stern. I've only ever seen that look a few times.

"Your teacher came by when I was at work. Your sister gave me the note she left, and she said that you were, and I quote, _atrociously _disrespectful and mocked her in front of the entire class, which should not, under any circumstances, be tolerated. She says that you appear to only be trying when doing your homework, which is practically flawless, and that's the _only _reason she's not failing you right now. She's letting you off with a warning. Thus, so am I." He smiled. His smile was always so genuine, maybe that's why he's not an intimidating man. I smiled back, and nodded.

"Thanks Dad." He stood from the table and walked away. He wasn't one to talk. He was more about passing comments and nodding replies. He never gave lectures or anything of the like. He believes that showing us kids that he loves us is going to work every day, and putting food on the table; not showing us any other affection. But he was my dad, and I did love the guy, and it was times like this when I could tell that he was trying to be a father. That's all that mattered.

Aunt Mary had made her way into the kitchen to start dinner. She was an okay cook, but I always preferred my mom. Mom's stuff was always just delicious and perfect and gooey with cheese, unlike the dry, sometimes tasteless stuff Aunt Mary makes. But Mom was too sick to cook most of the time these days. She would be laid up in bed, with headaches the worst that they come. They're so painful that she curls up her toes while in bed, and has actually pulled locks of blonde hair out to somehow ease the pain. It made the pit of my stomach hurt with sadness, because it was my mom, and Mom was the best.

She wasn't a delicate woman. She was tough, and until she became too sick to say otherwise, was very independent. She cooked every single night for her family without complaining, and cleaned up afterwards diligently. She always had a good-spirit and a smile on her face. She was just a happy lady. She knew how to be funny, and how to take jokes. We had the same humor; the two of us could easily go back and forth and just _laugh _forever. Those are some of my favorite times.

Aunt Mary was nothing like her sister. She was cold and serious. I avoided her like the plague. And, since she was wronged by her two husbands, hates men altogether. Being hated was cool.

The living room was dark, with only the glow of the television lighting it up. Dad and Fyn sat on the over-stuffed sectional couch, and I joined them until Aunt Mary announced dinner. She sat in Mom's bed and ate with her, so the dinner table was a little less cold. Perry and his wife Jessie came over to eat, like they do most nights, and that meant that all of us had to listen to Perry and Dad talk about work for the entirety of dinner. Afterwards, I helped Margie with the dishes…Or, more accurately, made a mess while she did the dishes. At least I managed to make her laugh.

It was pretty late, but I was hoping that Mom would still be awake. It had been a few days since I got to see her. The last time I saw her was when I sat in the kitchen with her while she cooked, and even though I know she was in pain, she was grinning and making fun of Dad. It was pretty hilarious.

Approaching her bedroom, I put my ear up to the door. I couldn't hear anything. I cracked the door and peered in. It was pitch black, the way she liked it when she had migraines, so I couldn't tell if she was awake or not. "Mom?" I half-whispered; nothing, she didn't even stir; but I heard her breathe deeply, so I closed the door and went upstairs.

* * *

The next morning, I took a quick shower before heading down to the kitchen. Aunt Mary was there, fixing breakfast for little Elyse, and Fyn was sitting in the living room reading, like the good little nerd he is.

"Volkner," Aunt Mary said. Her voice was deep and crackly, and my name rolled off of her tongue in a weird way that made me shutter.

"Yeah?"

She made a sound in her throat that I assume was supposed to be a sound of annoyance—she hated the word 'yeah'—then said: "Your parents were at the Center last night. Your mom had quite the episode, apparently. The doctor actually was helpful this time, however." I froze. My mom was at the Center. This was getting more and more serious. "She…She has a tumor in her head. Now, this isn't some sort of _joke,_" she said it as if I was about to start laughing—who would start laughing?—or like I would try to turn it into a joke, "it's very serious."

Elyse, with a look of terror on her face, hung onto every word Aunt Mary had said. "Is Mommy going to be okay?" Tears swam in her eyes.

"Well, Elyse, frankly—"

"Mommy's going to be fine, Ely," I cut Mary off and patted Elyse's head. She started to cry, and I picked her up and took her to Mom, who was awake and in bed. Elyse curled up next to her, and eventually fell asleep. Nothing was said by anyone. Mom, who looked exhausted, watched Elyse's face as she silently lay in the bed. I stood in the doorway, just looking at my mom and sister. Elyse looked just like a younger version of Mom, kind of like I was a younger version of Dad. I hoped more than anything that Elyse would _be _just like Mom, too.

She didn't get better, I was told, only worse. In her last few weeks she wouldn't leave the comfort of her room, and wouldn't let anyone except Aunt Mary and Dad in. The only time I saw her was when I would glance in while she was sleeping. She went to the beach alone with Dad a few times—as much as she could, I was told—just to get fresh air before her inevitable death.

It went by so fast. A part of me wishes that she didn't isolate herself from her children, so we could have…Said goodbye, and that we love her, or _something…_But Aunt Mary said that she wasn't herself in her last days. She was angry, and hateful, and _not _Mom. She didn't want us to see her like that. She wanted our last memories to be good. They were.

My emotions were broken, I think. I couldn't _feel _anything. I was just numb.


	3. Delicate

_Chapter Two: Delicate_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

Her funeral was good, I guess. A lot of family and friends showed up at our house. Rayne and her sister and mother showed up; baring cookies and a cheesy casserole—my mom's recipe. Why is it a custom to bring food as a death gift? "Oh, hey, your mom/wife/sister died? Here's food for the rest of the year!" However, I'm not complaining, especially if I have to live with Aunt Mary's cooking for the rest of my life; I could use some decent food.

Oh, and flowers. Everyone who couldn't attend the funeral sent flowers. Aunt Mary busied herself with placing the flowers all around the house so she wouldn't have to talk to anyone during the funeral. I learned one thing that day; Mary and Mom did have _one _thing in common: They weren't delicate. Mary didn't shed a single tear. Margie busied herself with Elyse, who was completely heartbroken. But I must amend Margie; she made the whole ordeal so much easier on our little sister by giving Elyse her full attention, and putting fake smiles on her face.

Fyn wouldn't leave Dad's side, copying Perry. I hadn't spoken to Dad at all since we found out about the tumor. He would work all day, and then lay in bed with Mom all night. He isolated himself, too; which only made Fyn want his attention that much more. Who could blame the little guy?

During the course of the time, I stood in the living room, away from the groupings of people who were speaking to my brothers and Dad. Some would speak to me, or give me a hug, but not everyone. Rayne stayed by my side, and my other friends flocked around me until it was too awkward that they left. But not Rayne, she stood silently beside me, sometimes running her hand down my back after someone came up to talk to me, or shooting me a comforting smile whenever I looked at her.

When my dad had to speak, he stood proudly in the center of the room, next to a tablecloth draped over an end table with a large bouquet of roses and an enlarged picture of my mom's obituary sitting on it. The obituary, which housed a color-drained, grainy picture of my mom on her wedding day, read:

_Meredith Emily Coldbroom/Parley: Mother of Perry, Cirla, Margie, Volkner, Fyn and Elyse; sister of Mary Elyse and Mason Fyn Coldbroom; wife of Volton Parley. Great spirit with a beautiful smile. _

Aunt Mary wrote it; I thought it was lame. She said that she had to name some of her family, so that friends of the family were aware, but I would have rather talked about Mom's awesome personality.

"I already miss My Emma dearly," my dad started, "she was the best mother for my children that I could ever hope for. She was the only woman I have ever loved, and will remain the only woman." His gaze never left the floor. "Emily was the best person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting and spending most of my life with. I still am in love with her, as I always will be." He cleared his throat, although there was no emotion on his face, and walked into the kitchen. Perry and Fyn were soon to follow him, and the large group of people all turned to mutter to each other. Elyse and Margie were nowhere to be seen, probably as far away as they can possibly be right now; I also wanted to be far, _far _away at that moment.

As if she could hear my thoughts, Rayne grabbed my hand. She laced her delicate fingers around mine, which I didn't even notice was curled into a fist. I wanted to look at her, but for some reason, I felt like if I looked at her I would lose it. Her hand was cold; or maybe that was just how it felt, since mine were pretty sweaty. I could feel a callus on her hand, right where the pen has rubbed her skin where she grips and holds on to it for dear life while drawing. Her hand seemed so small while it was in mine. She gave my hand a quick squeeze, then let go; I was about to grab her hand again when a man walked up to me. He stood tall and held his shoulders proudly. The first thing I looked at was his arms; they were lined with toned muscle. His white tee barely fit over his shoulders.

"Are you Fyn, or…?" He asked. His voice sounded adolescent, and when I looked him in the eyes, I noticed that he wasn't very old; older than me no doubt, but maybe only nineteen or twenty.

"Ah, no, I'm his older brother Volkner." It was always odd saying my own name. It caught me by surprise to hear myself say it; in a good way, I guess.

"Oh. I'm, uh, Mason." He nodded, like he was agreeing with himself. "Coldbroom, that is. Mason Coldbroom, your mom's brother."

Not knowing what to say, I also nodded. That gave him the impression that I knew who he was—which I didn't, I never met the man, and the only pictures I'd seen were from his childhood—and a look of relief washed over his face. "I heard about her death from Mary, she sent me a letter with a snippet of her obituary, and I was actually surprised that she had so many kids!" He laughed nervously, "A long time ago I met Perry and—Cirla? I think?" I nodded again. "Yeah, Perry and Cirla, but that was the last time I had seen everybody. I'm only five years older than Perry, my own nephew," he fake laughed again. That meant Mason was twenty-five years old; he looked younger, however, and had a young voice. "Anyways, I guessed that I should have been here…I mean, might as well, right? Meredith—Emily, as she goes by nowadays I suppose—we were actually pretty close growing up. Well, I was growing up, she was engaged when I was born and married shortly after. But for the first seven or eight years of my life I lived in Shore and saw her all the time. Spent most weekends right here in this house, actually. Then my mom decided to leave when my dad died, and she dragged me off to Veilstone. She passed when I was thirteen—in the grip of alcohol, just like Dad—and I was left to fend for myself. And, well, here I am," there was that laugh again. I fake laughed for less than a second, then covered it with a cough.

He stared off in the distance and didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. I looked at Rayne, who looked about as confused as I felt, and she shrugged. "So where are you living now?" I tried conversation.

"Here and there…" He trailed off and hesitated. "I work for Lea's Guards now, actually." He eyed me weirdly, like telling me this would make me flip out.

"Oh, that sounds pretty cool." Shrugging, I peeked over towards the kitchen. Fyn and Dad were walking back into the room. "There's Fyn," I pointed, "since you were looking for him."

He looked dumbfounded, then he raised his eyebrows in remembrance, "oh yeah! I wanted to meet the kid that was named after me before I left," another laugh, "I'll…See you around, okay?" I nodded, and he awkwardly approached Dad and Fyn. Dad seemingly recognized him, and gave him a friendly handshake.

"That was so weird." I muttered.

"Yeah, pretty much." Rayne agreed. "Wearing his uniform to his own sister's funeral? That seems…" She didn't finish her sentence. He had a plain white shirt on, golden lightweight pants, and big black boots that went halfway to his knees.

"He's an odd one. Doesn't look much like my mom, either." I could slightly see it, but not enough to assume they were siblings.

"Maybe it's the age gap?"

Nodding, I looked at her, "you're a smart one, Miss Rayne." She smiled, and I returned a smirk. "Want to get out of here?" She nodded hastily, and I grabbed her hand and led her outside towards the beach.

* * *

Birdbrain squawked at the top of the class. I was trying to listen, but she was babbling on about the importance of studying, since the test was only _three days away, _and I zoned out. I was having lovely thoughts about the pancakes Jessie had made this morning, when she squawked my name.

"Yes, ma'am?" My voice sounded as innocent as an angel.

"You didn't turn in your homework, or your essay about Water Type's. Now _isn't _the time to be slacking off, since the test is only—"

"Three days away?" I asked, the innocent tone still expertly shining in my voice.

She glared at me. "Indeed. You're hanging on by a thread as it is, I wouldn't start playing around now."

"Why not? Don't you want me in your class another year, Miss Karp?"

"Well, if you _must _be in my class again, I certainly won't be as pleasant as I am this year." I made a face of disgust. _This _was her being pleasant? "Or understanding," she continued, "I've let your homework slip ups slide this past month, knowing of all you've been going through"—referring to my mother—"but it _has _been a month, and it's the end of the year. Understand?" I nodded, and when she started babbling about the importance of these essays, I looked over at Fyn. He didn't look back, but he looked nervous. I could almost see the sweat drop on his forehead.

"Homework slip ups of the past _month? _I haven't been handing in my homework for the past month?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, have you?"

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. "Fyn, you've been doing my homework for the whole year, what's up?"

"Maybe I just think that you have to be responsible for yourself…Or something." He sounded angry. His angry voice was similar to what an angry, human-speaking Pikachu would sound like.

"Really? Did Perry tell you that? That sounds like something Perry would say."

"Maybe." He whispered, and turned his head away from me. I scoffed, and looked back up at Miss Karp. She wasn't even paying attention to the class anymore, just babbling on about not important stuff.

She soon finished her babbling, and then the dismissal bell rang. Fyn and I exited the building and started walking home. "So, I guess I'll be writing that essay and doing that homework tonight." I muttered.

"I guess so." He tried to sound conniving, but it came out unconvincing.

"Why, Fyn, just…Why? I mean, it's like an epic betrayal from my own blood!"

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "I'm just tired of being used, okay?!"

"You're not being _used, _don't make it sound so dirty."

"Whatever you want to call—or not call it, I'm tired of it. You want to pass? Do it yourself. Is that so hard?" He looked up at me, his face full of sincerity. I clenched my jaw, mostly out of annoyance and slightly out of anger.

"You're so…Cruel, and dorky. You're dorkruel."

He slightly smiled, but fought it back. He said: "He says _I'm _the dork?" then took off, grinning, before I could hit him or something. I laughed at his attempt and continued down the glass path.

When I walked through the front door, I saw Perry pacing in the kitchen. Meaning: He was waiting to talk, or more accurately, lecture me. Since Mom died, Dad pretty much checked out of the Dad Department, and started taking more shifts at work. Perry noticed, and started coming over on a daily basis, and even invited me and Fyn to go live with him and Jessie. Fyn almost seemed excited at the opportunity, but when I shot it down within seconds—not wanting to leave _my house _and live with my brother of all people—he rejected the idea, too.

Walking into the kitchen, I sighed dramatically, "yes, Perry?"

He gave me an angered expression. "Fyn has been doing your homework all year?!"

"Yup. Will that be all?" I grabbed a berry from the counter and took a large bite.

"Do you even _realize—" _He started, but then he face-palmed. "Why would you both force more work on your younger brother, and screw yourself over by not actually _learning _anything?"

"Actually, he never had a problem with it until you talked to him, and I've passed every single test—all on my own—with nearly perfect scores. I'm smart, who knew?" I started walking back out the door.

"You're really just going to walk away while I'm talking to you?" He followed me out.

"I was planning on it, except you weren't supposed to follow me."

"Volkner, your immaturity needs to stop here." I heard him stop walking, but I continued. "Stop walking, and come right back here _now." _I didn't stop. He started yelling more things, and I heard him get farther and farther away as I neared the center of town, then I heard him getting closer. I looked over my shoulder; he was running after me. I started sprinting, I was much faster than him, and ran through the crowds of town easily while his yells got drowned out by all the city voices.

But I didn't stop running. It was a good release of the anger I had all-of-a-sudden received, and it got me to my shack quicker. Pikachu was pleased to see me, and I was happy to see the little guy, too. I gave him the rest of the berry I got from home, and promised him I'd get him more food later.

Sitting at my desk, I plopped my backpack that I still had with me on it and pulled out my Types textbooks and my notebook. Water Types were okay, and since I lived in Sunyshore, I had enough head knowledge to pop out an essay. My favorite was Electric Types, however. Pikachu is a big reason for that, I think; but I've always been fascinated with electricity itself. I even made a mini tesla cord project a few years back, just for fun. It's been a hobby of mine, I guess. I love watching lightning during a storm. When it's completely dark outside, one bolt of lightning can light up the entire sky like its day. It's almost inspiring how that works; how _one _bolt of lightning can do that…Well, almost.

Losing complete track of time, I scurried to write the last few sentences of my essay, and then shoved everything back into my pack. Saying goodbye to Pika, I took off to Rock Beach.

When I arrived, everything was as normal: Abandoned beach, and Rayne sitting on her boulder drawing. I perched myself next to her, and I finally felt like I could breathe again; letting out a large breath, I wondered how long, exactly, I had been holding my breath. Peeking at her sketchpad, I noticed she was intently drawing a picture of me; taking me by surprise. It was a side profile view; all of my facial features were detailed—and pretty perfectly captured—and all of my colorless hair was falling in front of my face rather elegantly. My eyebrows were turned down and I looked stern, and I realized that that's how I was looking at the picture right at that moment, and I lightened my face. My jaw was set—again, just like it was right then—and my lips were seemingly pressed together hard. The angles of my face were so perfect, it barely seemed like a drawing.

"That is one handsome devil right there," I said, "mmm, that's probably the most beautiful drawing you've ever drawn."

She let out a 'pfft,' and gave me a look, "so you like it?"

"_Like _it?! I love it!"

"Oh, right, I forgot, it's _you, _and you love yourself, so of course you'd love this!" She snickered at herself, and then didn't give me a chance to reply: "I'm not finished yet, there are some more details for me to add in, and then of course I've gotta color your sandy hair—"

"I prefer Sandy Locks Of Love, _actually." _

"Whatever," she waved me off, "and your blue eyes, then I think I'll be done!" She smiled at her sketchpad. "Do you want it? You know, to tape to the ceiling above your bed, so you can gaze at your _sandy locks of love _every night before you fall asleep?"

"Tempting, but if I take it, what will you have to stare at all day? I mean, whenever the real thing isn't around, of course."

"Of course," she snorted, then shook her head and grinned, probably wondering why she even asked. A drop of water splashed on her sketchpad, luckily not ruining her work, and we looked up at the sky. It looked like a storm was rolling in.

"Want to head back to the shack?" I asked, and she nodded. We started through town when the rain started to pick up, so then we were sprinting. She laughed and squealed when it rained even harder, and I grinned at her; it seemed like the Old Rayne was, somehow, making an appearance.

"Open!" I yelled as we neared the shack. The door swung open, and we stumbled through, laughing as hard as we could. We were soaked. Raindrops were still running down my face from my hair as I lit the lantern.

"No! Your locks of love!" She could barely get the words out through giggles. She pushed my wet hair back, then laughed some more. "It looks like your hair is super-gelled back or something…It actually looks styled!"

"Quick! You better draw it fast, because this will be the only time it looks like that!" We laughed, and then thunder boomed over the shack.

Seriousness took over Rayne, "is it safe to be in here during a storm like this?" She asked.

"Yeah, we'll be perfectly fine…The reason I didn't suggest my house is because both Fyn and Perry are pretty upset with me, and—you know me—I'd like to dodge and avoid that as much as possible." I let out a laugh, but she didn't; a concerned expression crossed her face.

"You know, Fyn came over to my house and talked to me today," she spoke, "he wanted me to convince you to apologize to him, and to, in his words, change your life around."

Rolling my eyes, I said: "That's Perry speaking through him. I understand that I really shouldn't have let him do my homework, but it's not even a big deal. He never minded until Perry got involved."

"It's not about Perry," she started.

"Exactly!"

"It's about Fyn, and his feelings are hurt. Maybe you _should _apologize, and lighten up a little."

"How would you know? You don't have any brothers, Rayne!" I snapped.

"So? I'm still a younger sibling, and I know what it's like to have my feelings hurt by the only person I look up to for advice and as a role model and everything…Especially when trying to adjust after a tragedy." She gently smiled.

Sighing, I told her I would apologize to Fyn, and then I read her the essay I wrote for school. She gave me a little bit of critique, and I jotted her advice down. _How could I get through this without her? _I thought. Her face was dimly lit by the lantern, and it gave her a tannish glow. Her brown eyes were off in the distance, lost in thought as she aimlessly petted Pikachu. Her brown hair was sprawled across her shoulders, mostly dry from getting soaked earlier. "Rayne," her distant stare left, and she looked at me, "I couldn't get through this without you."

"Get through what?" She asked.

"…Everything, really. Just life in general, and then the big stuff. Like my mom, without you, I probably would have lost my mind after…You know," she nodded, "and you've always helped me with Fyn and Margie and all of my friends and Aunt Mary and…Everything!"

Smiling, she chuckled, "I know what you mean." That was all she said, but her face, filled with happiness, told that she appreciated me saying that, and that's what I cared about.

"I love you," I said, and although it was implied in things I've said in the past, I had never put the words together quite like that. Something spread through my chest, like a water balloon had rammed into my shirt and water spread across it; but different, and I liked it.

She smiled back, and blushed only slightly, but didn't say it. I didn't need to hear it; all I wanted was for her to know.

* * *

**Authors Note: **And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the softer/softest side of Volkner. At least for a while, this is as mushy as it will get, so enjoy it while it lasts.

What did you all think of this chapter? Remember, as I stated in a previous author's note, this story isn't supposed to be terribly tragic for too much longer. Don't worry. Angsty, probably; but tragic, I'd say no.

Thanks for reading!


	4. Rayne

_Chapter Three: Rayne_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

The amount of people in the Contest Hall was astounding. Trainer School graduations were a pretty big deal here, apparently. All of our teachers sat on the stage, and the principal gave a lackluster, used speech as we sat in the front and tried not to fall asleep. Afterwards, everyone cheered and applauded as we all, one by one, accepted a piece of paper that stated simply: You graduated Trainer School!

Exciting, I know.

But, surprisingly I _was_ excited. _Finally _being done with school and being able to leave off to pursue training seriously was an amazing feeling. All of a sudden, I felt a sense of freedom and accomplishment that I had never felt before. It was a new sensation, and it overpowered every other feeling inside of me. The pit in my stomach that never went away since Mom died was, somehow, conquered by this feeling of awesomeness. I couldn't stop grinning.

My whole family was there, and for the first time in my entire life, they all seemed so proud of me and my accomplishment. Even my dad, who spoke to me for the first time in a month saying: "I'm so proud of you, Son." He said the same thing to Fyn of course, who also was graduating, but it still meant a lot.

Rayne tagged along with my family, and she looked cheerful and full of excitement. She hugged me tightly the second she could, and yelled, "You did it!" in my ear.

"I know!" I yelled back.

She grinned, "I haven't seen you this happy in a while! I mean, _genuinely _happy. I like it! It's like you're you again." She poked my stomach. I laughed, and didn't say anything back. I didn't want to ruin the moment by saying that Rayne was _finally _getting back to herself again, too; so I just didn't say anything at all. She was still more reserved than Rayne ever was before, but her gloomy and annoyed attitude was seemingly taking a permanent vacation. She even wanted to join me in going down to the beach to play volball; which not only surprised me, but all of our friends as well. She distanced herself away from everybody except me, understandably so, I suppose; but now, she was so delighted to see everyone and even played volball for a little while. She sucked at it, as always, but had a good time laughing at her failed attempts.

It got late, and we were all still hanging out at the beach. Trifler and I were trying to build a sandcastle, when Perry so rudely interrupted as. He approached the start of the greatest sand fort ever, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Volkner, you need to come home." I rolled my eyes.

"Why, Perry? It's not even that late, and Dad knows exactly where I am."

"He also asked you to be home by eight, and its nine now. Explain that to me?"

"Whatever Perry," I stood up, and waved goodbye to everyone. We walked back, Perry gave me a lecture about how he _had _to come down to the beach to get me, because he _has _to teach me responsibility, because how will I ever learn otherwise, and I _apparently _haven't learned yet. I didn't say anything, a little too fumed to speak.

We entered the house and he stopped me at the kitchen. He seemed less frustrated as he leaned against a counter, which made my anger start to seep away. "So now that you're a graduate, what are your plans? You can catch Pokémon and train and everything, is that what you want to do?"

"Definitely, I've always wanted to be a trainer."

"Well, if that doesn't work out, you've always got Dad's architecture company to work at. I started working there when I was your age, best thing I ever did."

"Yeah, well, I'm not you," I chuckled, trying to play it off as a joke, but Perry must have seen through it.

"I'm just saying, sometimes training is…Irresponsible. Especially these days, with the Golden Cities and the guards; no one becomes a trainer anymore, Volk."

"What does the Cities and the guards have to do with people being lazy?" My anger slowly started coming back.

"Ever since they became prominent, there haven't been any trainers. And it's not _being lazy. _It's being responsible and getting a job that pays you. Living in Sunyshore is perfect for that. We're lucky to live here. Would you rather live in, Solaceon, for example, and be struggling because there's no work? Here there's plenty to do, with plenty of freedom."

"Like my friends that graduated last year, that are lifeguards or waiters, living with their parents still? Is that what you want for me? This is my _dream. _I want to become a trainer."

"For what? Badges? A little bit of money?"

"Yes! And life experiences, and to travel, and to get out of this town."

"You know what happened to Cirla. She left off, because she hated it here, and tried to be a trainer in Sinnoh. She got past the second gym, got bored, and left to another region. I don't want that for you."

"Why are you trying to be my dad, Perry?! Just stop! I don't want whatever you're trying to give!"

He sighed and placed his fingers on his temples. "I'm not trying to be Dad. I'm trying to be your older brother, _which I am."_

"I don't care. Stop it." I turned around and approached the stairs, "I'm going to do whatever I want, and you can't do anything about it."

* * *

The marketplace was placed in an odd spot in Shore. It was placed more in the back corner, and with lots of alleyways surrounding it made by businesses and houses. It was an open-air market, with booths varying in shapes and size selling all kinds of things. In the front, there were bigger booths selling fresh vegetables, meats and berries. The next section was booths that sold jewelry, clothing, and some household necessities. Next there were booths that sold training supplies and such; past that, you could find booths that sold anything. That's where the marketplace started branching down alleys, and where the "black market" was located; they sold pretty much everything imaginable. Drugs, alcohol, even Pokémon. Champion Lea makes claims that the black market has been shut down, but it's never shut down. He just says that to appease his audience.

As I walked down an alleyway, scouting for a booth that looked like it could possibly house the part I need for my detector, I saw a booth filled with art and art supplies. Approaching it, I saw a sketchpad with a painted front. It was painted in a lot of oranges and reds, and the colors reminded me of Rayne. The lady looked excited to see me, and when I bought the sketchpad she threw in some drawing charcoal free of charge. With a quick thank-you I paid the lady then continued down the street.

The end of that alley opened up into a large circle, and booths circled around me. A few of them were closed tents, and I didn't want to know what was going on in _those _tents. However, one of the booths had a pile of junk, and I quickly rifled through it. Nothing looked like it would help me with my project, so with a sigh, I turned to leave. Across from that booth was one of the tents, and I saw three hefty guards exit from it. They wore the same uniform as Mason did, I remembered, and they had a look of superiority over their faces. Besides Mason, I hadn't seen a guard in-person before; it made me stop in my tracts, and get a slight feeling of nervousness. It was weird having someone authoritative in your presence. As the three men started to walk back down the alley, one of them looked over at me. I quickly looked away, realizing that I was just blatantly staring at them, then turned back around to pretend to look at the booth again. Once I assumed they were far enough away, I walked back down the alley and into the main part of the market. Scanning around, I noticed that there were quite a bit of guards. They weren't doing anything, other than seemingly buying things or talking to other guards, but it still stuck out to me. Why were there so many guards in Shore?

Dismissing the thoughts, I continued out of the crowded place and walked to Rock Beach, where Rayne was waiting for me. With a smirk on my face, I handed her the sketchpad and charcoal. She seemed genuinely surprised and delighted that I had thought of her, and she gave me a hug.

We sat on the boulder, she was finishing up her newest sketch, and I said: "So there were a lot of guards at the marketplace."

"Yeah. This weekend is the annual Pearl of Sunyshore Contest, and a lot of people from the Golden Cities are showing up, or will be arriving, so they sent over some guards from there. You know, because our town is _so dangerous." _

"I know, it's awful. I'm questioning my own safety here. You're a loose cannon, you could start throwing punches any second now!"

She laughed and punched my shoulder, "At least I'm not mentally unstable, Boulder Brain."

"See?! I was right!" I grabbed my shoulder, which hurt more than I'd like to admit. "By the way, everyone was so happy that you went to the beach last night. First time you've been there in over a year, right?"

Her smile faded away. "Yeah, I guess." She muttered.

"What? Did you not have fun?"

"It was okay." She looked away.

"Is that it? Is that all you're going to say?" She hesitated, "Rayne, are you ever going to _talk _to me again?"

"What?" She gave me an annoyed look.

"You don't _talk _to me like you used to. Now it's just passing comments and jokes. Which is fine, but it used to be that, and you used to tell me what was on your mind. Whenever you try to actually talk to me nowadays, you end up getting upset and act like I always say the wrong thing and you won't let me ask questions and it's all wrong!"

She just looked at me for a few moments, searching my face. "What do you want me to say?"

Sighing in defeat, I said: "I don't know. Maybe you should tell me _why _you all of a sudden became reserved."

She shook her head, "I don't have an answer for you."

"And like now, you're not yourself. You're gloomy and distressed, you only recently started being happy and normal again, for the first time since..."

She frowned and wouldn't look at me again. "I'm sorry that I didn't snap back like a rubber band like you did after a parent died. It took me—I know—a year to start trying to be like I was. It's not easy! I thought _you of all people _could understand. Is it because now you're actually in the same boat as me—down to one parent—that you feel like you can critique me on how I should act because of it?" Her eyes started to fill with tears, but she held them back professionally.

Putting my arm around her hips, I said: "Of course not. I'm sorry, I should have never said that." She didn't reply. I looked over, a large family had entered the beach, and a few screaming kids ran and splashed in the water. "Want to go back to the shack?" She said yes, and we left.

On the walk back, she didn't say much. She must have still been upset with me, and I felt pretty bad about it. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. Soon we made it, and I messed around with my project—not making any progress since I didn't have parts that I needed—and she lay in the bed, sketching on her new sketchpad.

"Oh wow," she said, a few hours later. "It got dark really fast. Are you going to leave soon?"

"No, actually, I'll hang with Pikachu tonight. I don't really want to be home. Want me to walk you back?"

"No, I'll be fine. Luckily my mom is so busy with this contest, she won't even know I was out so late." Rayne hugged me, and then I opened the door for her to leave. I crawled onto my bunk, which smelled perfectly like Rayne's soft perfume, and Pikachu crawled up and nestled himself at my side. One day, me and Pikachu would go off on our own adventures. The only problem was figuring out when we would go. _Soon, _I told myself, _soon._

* * *

The next morning, I awoke at about noon. I didn't mean to sleep so late, but it happened. I was hoping Dad would have no idea that I never came home, and I would have successfully avoided everyone without getting caught. I gave some food to Pika before leaving, then I started walking back home. It was sunny and nice, as usual.

Walking through the door, I started for the bathroom; in-need of a shower. But then I saw Dad, pacing around the living room. He looked up and saw me, "Volkner! Oh, thank goodness," He threw his arms around me for a forced embrace. He patted my back so hard it made me want to cough.

"Uh, Dad?"

He stepped back and grabbed my shoulders. There was a look of terror in his eyes. "I thought something happened to you, Fyn said you never came home last night. Perry has a search party out for you!"

Quickly I started to think of someplace to say I was, since I still wanted to keep my shack a secret, but he continued without even asking: "Rayne never came home, either, and…" He trailed off; the way people trail off when they absolutely cannot fathom finishing their sentences.

Rayne never came home.

"Is she okay?" My voice was weak. I remembered my dad saying something to me once about never having a weak voice, but I didn't care at that moment.

Dad shook his head. His look of terror was replaced with pity, and all of a sudden, the worst feeling I had ever felt washed over me. "She's…?" He nodded.

The rest of the day was a blur. All I remember: My best friend, for the first time since we met, wasn't in it.

* * *

**Authors Note:** And that is the last of the tragedy. Now we'll start to get into the story, where the plot(s) will begin unfolding. I'm really excited and having a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you all are enjoying it! Also: I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but this takes place before any events of my story The Champion's Beginning.

I'm trying really hard to capture Volkner's personality. So far so good, I think, but I've still got some work to do. What do you think?

Thanks for reading! Leave a magical, majestic, mystical review!

*Shout-out and unending thanks to these wonderful readers: DeathGoblin, Espeonage Espeon, KuraiTamashi, and WyldClaw; thank you for the advice, praise, critique and comments. Means the world to me!


	5. Zombie

_Chapter Four: Zombie_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

They had just told me the news. How did this happen? Why did this happen? It didn't make any logical sense. Suddenly, my life all came crashing into my skull. You could probably say I was ignorant to think I could go my entire life without bad things creeping in like an evil, demonic bug. But I never thought that way. Now…I felt hopeless. It seemed like there was nowhere to look, nowhere to turn to. I felt like a zombie.

What was life? Not being able to help it, those unwanted thoughts rolled into my mind. However, I was glad they came, because I realized: Life was a moving picture, a perfectly captured moment, a perfectly drawn and put together piece of art. That was life.

They told me about Rayne. She was found in the woods, with bruises covering her body and a knife wound in her stomach. She died because of blood loss, the doctors had said, but she was murdered by a knife, of all things. She was found outside of Sunyshore; where she herself would never had gone to. People started saying that it was suicide, that the poor girl shoved a knife in her own stomach, but the bruises on her arms said otherwise. The murder was reported, to whoever gets the report—guards, maybe Lea, any other authority—but they won't do anything. Nobody gets _murdered _here. Murders are incredibly rare; the authorities don't even know how to handle them.

It didn't matter who did it, though. It just mattered that it was done.

* * *

_Another night of not being able to sleep, _I rolled over onto my back and shoved the blankets off of me. The windows in the loft Fyn and I shared were open, letting a breeze come in and graze my bare stomach and chest. I pushed my sweaty hair out of my face, and contemplated getting out of bed. Fyn was still fast asleep—in his reading glasses and book still placed in his hand—so if it was too early for him, it was way too early for me. I turned back on my stomach, and forced another hour or so of sleep. Fyn woke up at his usual time, and in turn woke me up by grumbling about falling asleep while reading again. He looked different when he first woke up; his hair, which is usually combed to perfection, stuck up everywhere. And his face looked so much younger, like a little child. He was only thirteen, about to turn fourteen, but he looked ten or so in the morning. He yawned, making himself look more childlike.

Eventually I got up, crawled down the ladder to the second floor, and went into the bathroom. The cold water of the shower felt good on my skin. It was the best way to start a hot summer day. I stood there for a while, tempted to just stay in for the rest of the day; but alas, I got out.

Margie tried to talk to me in the kitchen while I ate soggy cereal, but it was to no avail. I would barely speak, and it eventually annoyed her and she left. I was just _done _with trying to act. If I didn't feel like talking, I wouldn't talk. I was pretty much done with everything. Life had me fed-up, to say the least, and I was just done. Perry stopped lecturing me about my life, even; that's how obvious it was. After apologizing to Fyn, who gracefully forgave me, things were normal; until Rayne. Then _he _seemingly avoided _me_. Especially after he took Perry's offer of moving in with him this weekend, and admittedly, I was hurt. I always assumed me and Fyn were as close as brothers could be, much closer than we were with Perry, but apparently I was very wrong.

Elyse became wary of me, and started avoiding me. It made me sad, but it was nice to have that distance from everyone. In the back of my mind I told myself that it wouldn't last forever, and somewhere deeper than that, I hoped it was true.

Back in the loft, I put on some fresh clothes and grabbed Pikachu's Pokéball. Since I was an official trainer, I didn't have to hide my Pokémon anymore. I attached the Pokéball to a holder that connects to the hip of my pants, and then started into town.

The marketplace was filled with extra business on this Saturday morning. People crowded around venders, trying to purchase whatever they came here for before someone else gets to it. Mothers with three or more children crawling on them stood at the vegetable venders, looking both exhausted and extremely annoyed at the same time. The most interesting thing about the marketplace was how a whole variety of people were all forced to be with each other in one place. The richer of Shore didn't have their own section; they crowded around food vendors with all the poor people of Shore, too. Trainers were buying supplies—Pokéballs, repellants, traveling gear—Contest contestants buying jewelry and accessories for their Pokémon. Parents, children, elders, younglings; everybody came to the marketplace, and everybody suddenly became the same.

Knowing that the main sections would be no use to me, I pushed through the people wearing Contest dresses and work uniforms and raggedy coats and everybody else. I went down an empty alley, relieved that I wasn't in the crowd. Passing the artistic booth I had bought that sketchpad for Rayne weeks ago, I stopped to look at it. It was closed, and looked pretty abandoned. Of course I started to feel sad; but I walked away before I could feel anything more. I had been busying myself with distractions: Training, constantly working on projects, and playing volball as much as possible. It would work all day, then at night I would be up for hours; the pain of loss sitting on my chest heavily.

At the end of the alley, it opened up to the familiar booths and tents. The nearest booth, that usually sold all the junk I get for my projects, didn't have anyone working in it. I approached it, thinking that maybe someone would come if they saw me, but no one did. The next booth over held a vendor, talking to a sharply dressed man. The vendor didn't look too thrilled talking to the man. I assumed the man, who wore a pinstriped suit, was some man of importance here to speak business with the vendor. The vendor shook his head, and scratched the back of his neck nervously. The businessman lifted the cigar that he held up to his mouth and took a breath before speaking again.

The vendor motioned to the left, where a tent stood, and the businessman, who was facing away from me, entered the tent. The vendor eyed me, and walked over to the booth. "Interested in anything?" He said, only half-interested.

Rifling through the piles of mechanical junk, I couldn't find anything for my new project. The vendor must have assumed that, because he left the booth to go speak to another man that approached the booth next-door. I watched them, while still pretending to look for a part, and the vendor reached under his counter and pulled out what looked like a pill bottle. _This is the black market, after all. _I reminded myself, and dismissed what I had just seen.

The businessman exited the tent just as I turned to enter the alleyway. I froze, because I saw that he was coming right for me. He approached; and I suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Jeck Walter," his voice was smooth and deep. He stuck out his large hand, and I took it. His grip was strong, probably too strong for just a friendly handshake.

"Volkner," I muttered; I could tell he noted the hesitance in my tone, and he quickly took a breath of his cigar.

"Volkner? That's a strong name. Would you consider yourself a strong person?" His questioning tone was an intimidating one. Not demanding, but intimidating. He held his cigar gently and flicked it before placing it back between his lips. He was clean-shaved, and his hair was styled. What could a businessman want with me?

"I suppose," he nodded, and the corners of his mouth turned into a sinister smile.

He must have been finished with his cigar, because he rubbed it on the ground and left it there. "Now, Volkner, how old might you be?"

The question came across casually, but I felt like if I gave out such information it could lead to trouble. "Why are you asking, Sir?" I put my shoulders back and tried to look a little bigger.

His smile still lay on his face, "I apologize, I'm simply an inquisitive person." There was something twisted about the way he said those words, it made a chill run through my arms. Nodding, I started to take a step towards the alley entrance. "Volkner," I liked the way my name sounded in his twisted tone, "don't leave so soon. I like you, Kid." I turned to look at him. His smile widened, and he put his arm around my shoulders and led me down the alley. "I can already tell that you're a strong-natured man. You're protective—I can see it in your eyes—and seemingly smart. Tell me if I'm wrong, Volkner, but you also tend to be on the stubborn side, correct?"

He was giving me a look filled with humor and something else; an ominous look. "Are you psychic or something?" The words spilled out in my anxiousness.

He gave an unexplainable laugh, "no, no. So you're saying I'm right?" He grinned, "excellent!" The word twisted around his tongue like a snake; making even that one, simple word sound striking. But it didn't scare me, in fact, I liked the way it sounded. "Tell me something about yourself, Volkner."

Frowning, the uncomfortableness I felt when he first approached returned. "Why?" Suddenly I became aware of my surroundings. He took me in the opposite direction of the marketplace, down another alley, and we were walking down a street I wasn't familiar with. "Where are we going? Sir," I stopped, and he moved his arm, "explain yourself." I started reaching for Pikachu's Pokéball.

He put his hands up defensively, but his grin still stayed the same. "Now Volkner," He chuckled, "you've got the _complete _wrong idea," I didn't move, my hand was still placed on the Pokéball. "Listen…I have an offer for you." The amusement in his tone was replaced with seriousness. Past him, I could see down the street, where four guards were coming this way; right for us. Gulping, fear started to course through me, and I imagined the worst thing that could start happening by imagining Rayne's beaten body and knife wound. Maybe I held the same fate.

"The offer," he continued, even though I was focused on the guards, "is to be one of us." The guards drew near, each of them grinning.

Breathlessly, I said: "What?! That's insane, I…" I didn't know what to say. Should I say no, to these obviously dangerous people? When they could physically convince me otherwise? But I couldn't say yes.

"You've got the mind for it," Jeck coaxed. "You proved it to me even more so when you went to grab your Pokéball there," he nodded to my hip, where Pikachu was attached to my clothes.

"We could make that Pokémon a battling _machine." _ The tall, dark skinned guard said, "You'll have tons of opportunities to catch better and stronger Pokémon, too."

"All of your amenities are fully paid for," Jeck spoke again, "boarding, food, clothing, and anything else you might need or want."

"You'll be trained to fight, with and without Pokémon." Another guard said, and his grin widened and turned a bit more sinister. "We'll bulk you up, too." I thought of Mason, and his muscular arms; that was the first thing I noticed about him. "You'll get to travel everywhere in Sinnoh, see the best of the best Sinnoh has to offer." They all looked at me, waiting for me to say something.

Admittedly, it was tempting. All the fear and anxiety inside of me was replaced with bubbling excitement. It seemed so _thrilling _and promising. The distraction of it all seemed amazing, as well; being able to focus whole-heartedly on training myself and my Pokémon would possibly be the greatest distraction for me right now. This town had nothing left for me, and they were offering me everything.

"Okay," I tried to sound convincing and strong, "I'll do it." They high-fived me and laughed victoriously.

"Let's get you to the compound, Volkner." Jeck said, and placed his arm around me again.

"Wait, shouldn't I go home?" He looked puzzled as he started leading me away.

"The compound _is _your home now." His tone seemed genuinely confused, but I could see that he was trying to trick me into thinking a certain way.

"My _old _home…To grab my stuff, maybe?"

"You won't need anything, that's the greatness of it!" Jeck proclaimed.

It then became incredibly clear to me that they weren't going to let me go home. "To say goodbye, then, to my family?"

"It's easier for everyone if you just leave." One of the guards said. "Trust us."

The excitement of the situation was starting to ebb. "I…I trust you…" I said it not as assurance to them, but to try to convince myself.

"Good, because there's no going back now."

* * *

Authors Note: There are a few things I didn't really like about this chapter, but after rereading and editing I think I've got it as good as I can get it! Except for the first paragraph or so when I use the word "done" way too much, but in a way I liked it too much. So my challenge to you is to use the word done way too much in your review. Heh.

JoHo: At least quote a decent band on my story! Psshhh, you silly.


	6. Callousen

_Chapter Five: Callousen_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

The only thing I could do was continue walking forward, and keep myself from thinking about this situation too much. I told myself that I had made the right decision; that wasting my days in Shore wasn't getting me anywhere, that pushing my family away was only making things worse—yet that's all I could do—and that no one would _really _miss me if I was gone. I would travel all over Sinnoh, I told myself; I would train myself and my Pokémon, and everything would be great.

Only being able to partially make myself okay with this, I still felt sick to my stomach. To get my mind off of it, thankfully, Jeck was telling me that we would first be going to a campsite on the outskirts of Shore, then we would proceed to the Veilstone Compound. And sure enough, soon we were at the campsite. I asked where the other compounds were located, and Jeck just grinned and said: "I'm sure you'll find out." Whatever that was supposed to mean, I'm not sure. Maybe he was trying to sound exciting, but it only made me feel worse. My face must have curled up; similarly to the way my stomach was curling, because one of the guards let out a weird snicker.

"Don't be so nervous, Kid," he spoke, "this life is the best life! If you're the type of person that regrets decisions right after he makes them, you better speak now."

Considering this, I opened my mouth to start to say that I was, in fact, one of those people; but when I started, Jeck quickly said: "He isn't, Carsen, don't worry." He patted my back hard.

"Good, 'cause if he was, I would've beaten it right out of him." The guard, Carsen, winked at me; but there was no sense of playfulness behind what he said. Gulping, I pressed my lips so hard together that my teeth started to make marks on the inside of my mouth. Eventually I sat on the ground, next to the fire one of the guards started. Carsen sat with me, but the others and Jeck stood a few feet away; speaking quietly to one another. Jeck smoked his cigar, a sight that I already knew was too common for him, and the other two guards stood straight and alert when speaking to him. Assumingly, Jeck must have had authority over them. I almost asked Carsen what Jeck's position in the guards was, but I was too afraid of saying the wrong thing and, well, being beaten.

They approached us, and Jeck finished his cigar. "We're going to pack up the remains of this camp, and get to the compound. The sooner we can get there, the better." The sun had already set, and it was getting late. Never having travelled to Veilstone, I didn't know how long it would take; but now wasn't the time to complain about getting a good night's rest. Besides, that was the least of my worries.

* * *

Clutching the backpack closer to my back, I entered into Veilstone. The walk wasn't very pleasant; trekking through mud pits caused by rainstorms, having to watch Carsen battle off Hoothoot—for no good reason, really—and listening to Jeck explain to me the rules of the compound, which wasn't that bad, except I kept zoning out due to exhaustion.

However, I did keep trying to remind myself of what he said, because from what I understood, the rules of the compound were fatally important.

The "Never Do's":

Never speak unless spoken to; in regards to anyone of authority above you. For new recruits, it's everyone except your fellow newbies; Level Two punishment.

Never let personal reasons affect you while working; Level Two punishment.

Never slack off; Level Two punishment.

Never leave the compound without a chaperone; Level Three punishment.

Never steal from one another; Level Three punishment.

Never get personally involved with commanders; Level Four punishment.

The "Always Do's":

Always do as you're told, when commanded by authorities; punishment may vary.

Always complete your training or other work given to you; punishment may vary.

Always speak to authorities with respect, and address them by their authoritative name: Commander, General, Chief; etcetera. As for the regular guards, address them by Sir or Ma'am or their preferred name. Addressing them such as "Guard Carsen" is only acceptable in some cases, and isn't recommended; punishment may vary.

Always go to bed on-time; the curfew for newbies is two a.m.—which doesn't seem like a curfew to me, but I wouldn't dare say that—punishment may vary.

The word "punishment" being brought up so many times made my stomach twinge. And every time Jeck stated what level the punishment was, one of the guards would chuckle or scoff or mutter something like: "You wish it was a Level Two punishment," and then laugh. The guards added a few things; telling me that it all depends on your commander as to what punishment you receive. And that it goes all the way up to Level Seven punishment; but anything above Four is forbidden for newbies and most guards. You have to get in a lot of trouble to get something above Level Four. Or you have to be of high authority to receive something above that level; and to give that high of a punishment.

What could a Level Seven be, then; I wondered if it was something as serious as being tortured until the brink of death. I hoped that maybe even Level Seven wasn't that serious, and the worst it could be was jail time. That was the worst punishment you got, wasn't it? If you were to murder someone or steal money or something very serious, they took you to jail. They didn't torture you until the brink of death.

At least that's what I hoped.

Veilstone was a weird city. There were drab-colors coating everything, and everything looked stained or dirty. Even the houses looked like they were abandoned; especially this late at night, when all the lights were off and the town's population was sleeping. The streets were wide, and all dirt streets except for a few that looped around the center of town. One of the guards mentioned "Main Street" and I assumed it was the long, paved road running through the middle of Veilstone. I looked down it and I saw some restaurants that were still open, a long row of shops that were closed but still displaying fancy things in the windows, and a large building, lit up with fluorescent lights. Anywhere else that flashy, tacky building would stand out like Miss Karp outside of an insane asylum. Even picturing it in Sunyshore didn't seem right, and there were streets upon streets and alleyways looping everywhere; with splashes of colors and streetlights that didn't give everything an eerie orange luminosity. But here, even in this colorless city, it somehow worked.

My exhaustion seemed to take a vacation, and a new burst of energy coursed through me. Of course, my eyelids still seemed heavy and I kept yawning profusely, but I could focus somewhat better. The perk of being tired was that I wasn't dreading this situation in the depth of my stomach anymore; I felt more indifferent and shrugged it off.

The guards and Jeck talked amongst themselves; I was hearing what they were saying, but I was taking no interest. Seemingly it was guard gossip. Who cares?

After walking through the entire city it seemed like, we reached a small port with boats docked at it. The waves were rough and loud; I closed my eyes, and it sounded like home. Not exactly, Sunyshore waves sounded a whole lot smoother and rhythmic; these weren't.

Past the docks, in the opposite direction of Route 215, we entered into a dark, colorless forest. As we walked, I could hear Hoohoot hooting desperately to each other and the leaves on the trees rustling as they fly away. It all sounded creepier in the dark, and a chill ran through me; a riveting chill, not a scared chill.

"I wonder why those things are still hanging around. Stupid birds." One of the guards chuckled.

"Yeah," Jeck replied, "you'd think they all would have been scared away at this point." I almost asked what they were talking about, but again: I didn't want to say the wrong thing.

The trees ended abruptly, revealing a large clearing housing a fenced-in warehouse-type building. The compound, no doubt. We approached the large, chain-link gate and I noticed two hefty guards standing outside of it. Why would there need to be _guards_, _guarding _a _guard _compound? Then I further examined the fence outlining the warehouse, and noticed barbed wire looping around the top, similarly to a prison.

Suddenly the dread in the depths of my stomach returned. I swallowed, trying to rid the dread, but it didn't work. My heart started to race, but I calmed it down hastily; desperate to try and make myself okay with this decision.

Was Perry right all the times he said that I was too immature to make decisions?

No. I would prove him wrong; besides, what choice did I have?

* * *

The first room in the compound was a huge training room. Different obstacle courses were setup throughout the room; along with weights and other workout gear. Honestly, it didn't look that intimidating. In a way, it relaxed me.

So many emotions flooded throughout me. I've never felt so many things in such a short time. At one moment I felt dread, the worst dread you could imagine, then I would be engulfed with sadness, then I would attempt to calm myself down, and feel slightly relaxed. It didn't make any sense. I blame exhaustion.

There were branching hallways towards the left; leading to multiple doors and two staircases. One leading upwards, the other down; the warehouse was _much _bigger than I thought. We went upstairs, leading to a hallway with four doors on each side, and a glass window at the end; looking over the training room.

Jeck turned to me and said: "This is where we part for now, Volkner."

My eyes widened. "What?! Jeck—Sir," I quickly tried to cover myself up, and he slightly smiled that curled, sinister smile, "I have no idea what I'm doing here!" I whispered. The other guards didn't come in with Jeck and I; they stayed outside at the fence.

Something flashed in his eyes—sympathy? Pity?—then it was gone. "Kid, you're gonna be _fine._" His slight smile turned into a grin, "Trust me." He put his arm around my shoulders, and I shuddered; the memory of him leading me away in the alleys rushed back to me. Why did that feel like so long ago? In a distant time and place? Wasn't it only a few hours ago? Or was it not? I had no idea.

He led me to the first door on the left and opened it. The light overhead was still on, but most of the bunk-beds lining the walls were occupied with sleeping people. Three guys sat on the floor, seemingly playing cards. "Jeck!" One of them said, then scrambled to his feet. "Is it two-a.m.? We had no idea! I—we—,"

"Oh shut up," there was humor in Jeck's tone, and the scrambly-guy relaxed and let out a puff of air. "This is Volkner," Jeck said loudly, startling some of the sleepers. Some lifted their heads to look at me, others just let out an annoyed grunt or ignored Jeck completely. "He's our new recruit from Sunyshore, like most of you…Right?"

"Yeah, sure," some of them mumbled.

"Whatever. I can't keep up with you _newbies." _

"But you're the one who recruited all of us!" Scrambly Guy said quickly; like on impulse.

"Was I speaking to you?" The humor left Jeck's tone, and Scrambly Guy bit his lip—hard. "_Anyway, _make room for Volkner. He's promising," he eyed the room, "unlike most of you." And with that, he spun around and left; slamming the door. One of the sleepers on a bottom bunk jerked up and slammed his head into the top. He yelped, and Scrambly Guy let out a hesitant puff of air; like that was all the laughing he could do. I didn't feel like I could even manage that much laughter, so I had to amend him.

"You okay?" He spoke to the sleeper with the possible concussion.

"Yeah," the word weakly slipped between his lips. He was tall; his feet hung off of the bed, but he was probably only Fyn's age. He rubbed his head then curled back under his thin blanket.

Scrambly Guy looked at me and shrugged. "This is his first night too; he's a little on-edge."

Nodding, I couldn't bring myself to say anything. Scrambly Guy stood there awkwardly, waiting for a response, but none came. "Well then." He cleared his throat. "Probably a good time for lights-out. It's surely past curfew by now, I'm surprised Jeck didn't—" He stopped talking when I walked by him and towards the only empty bunk bed, partially ignoring that he was there. I didn't feel like conversation with this straggly, scrambler, weird guy right now anyways. I climbed into the top bunk, and someone shut off the light; the room enclosing in darkness. I heard blankets and sheets move as people shifted in their bunks, and the sound of breathing and some slight snoring.

Even though there were many people around me, all breathing deeply and evenly as they slept; I had never felt more alone.

* * *

The room was awkwardly silent, except for the hushed words of nervous people trying to make conversation, or the robust laughter of the guards sitting at their own table. At my table, where I sat with all of my roommates, we were all very quiet; silently and hesitantly picking at our breakfast.

The dining room was large, and cluttered with long tables filled with large plates of various foods. Each table had a plate spilling over with Oran berries, one stacked with fresh, steaming bread rolls; and two filled with eggs. Pokémon eggs—scrambled, as I heard one of my roommates mutter—and sitting there for us to eat; I had helped myself to berries and bread, but I wasn't going to eat the yellow clumps that were seemingly staring at me, since one of the large plates was placed right in front of me. However, I wasn't the only one hesitant to eat the eggs at my table. In fact, only three people did. One seemed to be pleased with the eggs; probably had eaten them before, then the other two made weird faces and couldn't bring themselves to finish them.

One of them noticed some of us eyeing the egg eaters. "It's not terrible," he said; his voice sounding deep and drawly, not a Sunyshore accent, "but…It's odd. The taste is fine I reckon. It's not refreshing like berries, it's…Different." He shrugged, but didn't eat anymore.

Yeah, I stuck to my berries and honey-soaked bread. I looked around the room, there were quite a few tables feasting on the eggs. I noticed one group of guards all looking at our table, and one of them started our way from across the room. My instincts kicked in, "Guys," I addressed all of my roommates—all male, "start putting eggs on your plates."

They all started to say something objective. "_Do it,"_ the words were harsher than I intended, "we're the only ones not eating them and a guard is coming." Some of the people instantly starting dishing them out, then the others followed. I didn't look at the guard; I just scooped some yellow mush onto my plate.

The guard approached and cleared his throat. We looked up at him. "You better eat _all _of the food. There's, what, a dozen of you right here? You can finish all of that. You better eat up, lunch is six hours away and today is the first day of training," he paused, and then called us a bad name. It came out so forced, like he didn't truly want to say it, but he had to. He walked away.

"That would have been worse if I didn't say anything…" I muttered, trying to assure my roommates; but no one paid attention. Realizing that that was the first time I had spoken since being here, I felt weird. Like I shouldn't have spoken at all; I went all morning without speaking, I didn't need to now.

That morning had been a dreamlike blur; like all of yesterday. We were woken up by doors slamming and guards yelling at us to wake up, and to be in the dining hall in twenty minutes. There were two bathrooms in our hallway, each housing four showers, so all of us were in-and-out quickly so we could get to the dining room on time. As we stood in line in the hall, we were handed raggedy towels and…Our uniforms.

The gold puffy pants weren't my style, but admittedly they were _very _comfortable and obviously made for swift movements. Although I had to pull the drawstring and tie it tightly around me, since they were too big. And the white shirt hung loosely on me, like most of the "newbies"—as I heard one of the guards refer us as—and one of the guards told us that we would grow into them. Assumingly he meant we would gain muscle; I wouldn't complain about that.

After our rushed showers, we were ushered into the dining room. A large group of _newbies _were already seated at tables, and the guards ushering us made noises of disappointment. "Tomorrow, we'll get you up even earlier since you fools take so long." One of them threatened. I'm not sure what time it was, or what time I eventually fell asleep, but I felt rested enough. Anyone who was jolted awake by someone yelling at them, however, wouldn't feel drowsy afterwards.

Poking at my eggs, I had to force myself to bring them up to my lips and choke them down. I had never tasted anything like it before. Plus the idea that I was eating _Pokémon eggs _made my sick to my stomach. I forked down a large bit of eggs and swallowed them without chewing; some of it came back up in my mouth, tasting even worse than previously discovered, and I swallowed all that down, too. No wonder my mom preferred the vegetarian lifestyle. I washed my mouth out with the water that was provided.

"Does anyone else think the eggs are dreadful?" Scrambly Guy looked like he was going to be sick. Some of the people agreed, and he looked like he was holding back a cough. "I suppose it's the thought, right? The mental thought of eating…" He covered his mouth with his hand.

No one replied, and we noticed that people at the other tables were standing and walking down a hallway. We quickly jumped up and followed down the hall that led into the training room. Even now, when I knew I was about to partake in training in here, it didn't look intimidating. A rush of excitement swelled inside of me. A feeling of guilt quickly followed; was I really excited for this? When I left my family behind, and I should hate it here?

Pushing the guilt away, I told myself: _This is good, don't feel guilty. _

All of us stood in a large group; facing a smaller group of guards. One of them stepped closer to us, and eyed the group of newbies. "Today is Day One. All of you should be familiar with the do's and don'ts. But let me get some things straight…" His look was intimidating; I hoped his eyes would never meet mine. "We call ourselves The Callousen, we work for Champion Lea. He is the _head of command. _We don't talk bad about Our Champion, we only speak of his goodness. He gave us _all_ a new life; a second chance. We are everlastingly grateful, and we show that through our work, which in turn means the punishments are harsh and the work is tough," he paused, and a smirk pulled up on his lips. "This compound is nicknamed the Shadows because you _newbies _go through a…Shadowy period, as we guards call it." Some of them laughed. "So…"

"Welcome to the Shadows."

* * *

**Authors Note: **Firstly, I want to thank you all for all the positive feedback! I think this is my first story where all the reviews are so positive and people are really enjoying this story. Secondly, I honestly don't have the Callousen all figured out (example: what all the recruits have to do to earn the title of an official guard) so any suggestions or ideas you might have; I'd love to hear them! I usually don't ask for stuff like that, and it's weird to me, so I might not use any suggestions, but who knows. That being said, let me know what you think about the guards and the interworking's of the Callousen.

Thirdly, I wrote a story called "Snake Eyes," which is completed, that tells of Champion Lea's backstory and how/why he became Champion. Check it out if you haven't, it's my favorite thing that I've written so far!

Lastly, thanks for reading!


	7. Promising

_Chapter Six: Promising_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

Training wasn't easy. We were thrown into work after being separated into four large groups, with two commanders leading each group. Two of the groups went to each obstacle course, another went to the workout equipment and ropes, and the last went to the rock climbing wall that covered the right wall. My group was at one of the obstacle courses. There were short walls outlining it, and inside I saw different things to climb or jump over. The goal was to get through it as quickly as possible. I was one of the firsts. Three people ran through it before me, and they came out of the other side looking winded, but unharmed. Then it was my turn.

Sprinting, I entered the obstacle course. The first thing was a hanging hoop to dive through; I did that effortlessly and landed on padding on the ground. Then I was on my feet, and running towards a large series of poles. Quickly I weaved myself through it, only once banging my shoulder against one of the metal poles. Next I was faced with a large rope wall; I easily climbed up and over, dropping to my feet when I got halfway down. I stumbled, but caught myself on the ropes. Turning around, I noticed a large pit in the floor and Mankey bars, as we called them on the playground during my childhood, going across it. Not wanting to waste time, I sprinted and leapt up. I latched onto the metal bars, already my fingers were hurting from it, and one by one I made my way across. That was the end of the obstacle course, and I jogged my way to the back of the line.

After everyone went through it twice, Commander Carsen announced that when someone took longer than three minutes to complete the course, everyone in line had to do ten pushups. _Bring it on, _I thought; but almost everyone took longer than three minutes. Including myself; even on my third, fourth and fifth try.

After everyone went five times, we switched with the workout group and began using workout equipment. We all switched from weights, to rope climbing, to simply doing leg-lifts, wall sits, and more pushups at the guards command.

My body felt exhausted, and my legs felt like mashed berries. Heaving myself up the rope was more difficult than I'd like to admit, but it was a bit easier after multiple pushups. After climbing that rope in its entirety, I did feel accomplished and, well, proud of myself. Luckily, next was the other obstacle course. This time I let myself slip into the middle of the line, so I had more of a break before it was my turn. This obstacle course housed three-foot walls to climb over, a section of chain-link you had to army crawl under, and at the end: Another pit, this time, with rings to cross over. My first try I made it without too much struggle; but the second time, my fingers ached on the rings, and I slipped into the pit. Knowing I would have to make my fellow recruits do pushups, I quickly composed myself and ran to one of the walls on the pit. I felt around: Pegs, there were pegs on the pit walls. I tried to get footing on one, but it wasn't easy. After two failed tries, I finally made my way up the wall and out of the obstacle course. My next three tries were more successful.

The last thing was rock climbing. We were all exhausted, and climbing the wall was nearly impossible. We only climbed up once each before it was lunchtime; since we took so long to climb.

Sitting at the lunch table, I felt like I could both throw up and climb Mt. Coronet. Even though I was so tired, and my body felt the weakest it had _ever _felt—it also felt _good; _in such a weird way. My muscles felt empowered and _strong, _for the first time in my life.

Believe it or not, after we ate, I was excited for more.

All of us were ushered through the backyard, to a large section of land outlined by fences. It housed a Pokémon battlefield, and my heart picked up at the thought of battling and training.

"No Pokémon training yet, but we'll use this area for now. Four laps around the compound; last one to return has to do suicides across the battle area. Go!" Quickly everyone stumbled into a sprint around the compound. At first I was in the middle, but after a lap I had fallen back a ways. After another lap, I was able to maintain my spot, but I didn't know how I could run for another two laps. My legs just _couldn't. _The compound was huge as it is. My breath was heavy, and I knew I was about to collapse.

"Come on guys! We can do this!" The guy running beside me yelled. I looked over at him, he was as breathless as I was; yet he began to pick up speed. I copied him, and put my focus not on my lack of air, or my legs, or the stabbing pain in my side; but to keeping up with him, and before I knew it, the four laps were over.

The last person, being Scrambly Guy, did in fact do suicides; all of us had to watch while doing sit-ups. My stomach burned and I could feel the weight of the food dwelling in there. I tried to focus on Scrambly Guy, who was breathless and stumbling along as the commanders yelled at him. He had to do four sets, and by the third, he collapsed. I stopped doing my sit-ups to gawk at him. Commander Carsen walked over to him and touched his shoulder gently. Then Commander Chase stomped over, basically pushed passed Carsen, and grabbed Scrambly Guy's arms. He pulled him up and turned him around all in one motion; I saw a flicker of Scrambly Guy's eyes. "_Get up," _the words rumbled in Chase's chest then slid harshly between his teeth. Fear crossed Scrambly Guy's face as he opened his eyes as much as he could. He started to stand, but then slumped back down. Carsen quickly grabbed him, and helped him to his feet. Chase stood; his face was screwed up into a horrendously angry face with his furry brows ruffled, forehead creased into a thousand wrinkles, large square chin pushing up his fat lips into his scrunched nose; he opened his mouth, prepared to scream.

"No, Chase," Carsen said; without looking at his fellow commander. There was some warning in his tone, and Chase frowned even harder; his face screwing up even more. He didn't say anything, but stared daggers at Carsen as he helped the newbie over to the sidelines.

"Did I _say stop?!" _Chase screamed at us, his face reddening as he did. I forgot that we were supposed to be doing sit-ups, as did everyone else around me, and we hurriedly started again.

Afterwards, we were ushered back inside to the training room. My head, stomach and legs ached. I slightly limped, just because my legs had a hard time carrying the weight of my body. "Sit down," Chase commanded. We did, and I'm glad we did, because as I sat my legs gave out and I landed hard on my butt. Taking a breath of relief, I tried to focus on him.

"That's enough for Day One, Newbies. You have free reign of the compound for the rest of the evening—except you're not allowed downstairs, or through any locked doors. And for now, it also means outside. We _encourage you"—_apparently he forced the words out—"to use this time wisely in the training room. Tomorrow, we pick things up and go a little harder." He smirked, and then eyed us down. "When dinner is announced, we _all _meet into the hall right away. Tardiness to meals is punishable." He cleared his throat before walking away. We looked around, slightly confused, but then some of us started to get up. I didn't, for fear of my legs; why would I? What would I possibly do? Going back to my room and lying down seemed like a good option, but then the thought crossed my mind that that would appear as weakness.

Seemingly, I wasn't the only one confused as to what to do. Small groupings of people would gather around and awkwardly talk to each other. One group was filled with small, lanky _kids. _Thirteen or fourteen, I assumed. One of them I recognized as Fyn and I's classmate from Shore; another one looked similar, too—maybe they were both classmates. It probably would have been a good idea to pay better attention in school.

Still, they were too young to be here. My two probable classmates wore glasses, just like Fyn—glasses that fit awkwardly on their faces, just like Fyn—they were blonde and small and _delicate_, just like Fyn—then I had to look away and swallow the lump in my throat. The thought of Fyn being here made me sick, and the thought of me being away from Fyn made me worse. Who was protecting Fyn now?

You never realize how important your presence in another person's life is, until you're no longer present.

_Perry, _I told myself, _Perry has Fyn's back. Of course, not the way I did in Trainer School, where no bully would mess with him because they knew they would have to go through _me, _the oldest in the class. And not the way I did, where I could sneakily give him advice—sometimes by not even saying anything. _Even I couldn't deny Fyn's trust in me. He told me everything, as he always did. It was just second nature. He wouldn't do that with Perry, would he? Perry is too much of a fatherly figure to be trusted in a brotherly way.

But I couldn't let myself think about it. Already I knew that if I truly let myself feel regret about leaving, I wouldn't be able to bear it.

Did I regret it? I didn't allow myself to answer that.

The group of Fyn's started walking towards the hall that leads to the rooms. For some reason, that made me feel relieved; possibly because, in the back of my mind, I knew that they'd be safe up there, far enough away from us and the guards.

Another group was filled with five unrecognizable guys. They were taller, more built, and looked older than myself. They _looked _like they would band together, I thought; they all had dark hair, similar structures and in their uniforms they looked as if they could be brothers. Assumingly they weren't from Shore, I would be able to spot a Shore citizen—or at least I hoped I could. They spoke quietly, but then they laughed hard. The group of Commanders—Carsen, Chase, and the three others who escorted Jeck and I here—turned to raise eyebrows at them. The group grinned and walked over to the two ropes that hung from the ceiling. They began climbing effortlessly; racing one another. I rolled my eyes at them, they were acting like the guards too much—acting like tools.

"They've been here for a week," I looked towards my right. I didn't realize that only about two feet away sat some guy that I recognized from my table this morning, and playing cards with Scrambly Guy last night.

"Yeah?" was all I replied.

"Yeah," he echoed, and nodded. "They were part of the first group of this round of recruiting. I was the second—or third? I can't remember—and they've been like this for the whole week. Even though today was the official first day of training, they've been training all week. Running through the obstacle courses, climbing those ropes, even sprinting outside, and they've even become buddies with Commander Chase and some of the others. You see, Commander Chase didn't go out recruiting like some of the guards did—there are about twenty guards living here at the compound right now—he was one that stayed here to keep an eye on all the _newbies,_ so people like them"—he nodded towards the climbers—"were able to get the upper-hand."

Clearing my throat, I spoke: "Good for them? That's a cool story and all, but how does that apply to me?"

He shook his head, and never looked me in the eyes, "I've heard rumors, man. I've been here for five days—I think? Feels like an eternity—and the word and gossip carries around this compound like Beedrill carry pollen." He sniffed, then continued: "The rumors say that there's acertain…Rank, for lack of a better word," he kept his eyes on the other guys, "and it's bad news bears for the people on the low end of that rank. People like those—those—"

"Tool benches?" I offered.

"Tool benches," he agreed, "are going to be hard to beat. This _rank, _apparently, means that you qualify to join the Callousen. If you're on the needed skill level, mentally and physically, you join…If not…"

"What happens?" I spoke quickly; getting caught up in this conversation.

"I've got no idea."

"How do we know if we're able to qualify? And _when _would we know?" Realizing how caught up I was—to the point of my body stiffening up—I relaxed and gulped. I let my guard down; I was weak.

He took a deep breath. "Maybe we don't? Maybe that's something the commanders keep to themselves, and then just pick us off as we fall out of qualification, until there's a promising group leftover?" He shrugged, and I copied. He looked at me. "Owen."

"Volkner." I muttered. For some reason, saying my name here—in this place—seemed wrong; like I didn't want people to know me, I didn't want to build a friendship, which would make this all-too real.

"Volkner," he repeated, "I was there when you told us to eat the eggs this morning. I guess I owe you a thank you."

"You don't," I came across harsh, "it was nothing." Now _I_ looked away.

"Then I retract my thanks," he slightly laughed. "Where are you from?"

Hesitantly, I said: "Sunyshore…And you?"

"Eterna, practically across the region from Sunyshore, huh?" I nodded, and thought of the Sinnoh map. Practically across was correct. He leaned back on his palms.

"Since you've been here a week," I inquired, "what do we do with our free time like this?"

He managed a shrug while sitting in his comfortable position. "All I've really done is stuff in this training room—not as obsessively and definitely _not _with instructions from commanders like the tool benches—and try to know the compound, talk to people, learn things…Know what I've…What I've gotten myself into…"

"What other rooms are there? Here in the compound?"

He sighed, "Well, of course there's this room, the dining hall, the hallways upstairs with the rooms and bathrooms; then there's that branching hallway from the dining room, leading to a large kitchen, pantry, storage room, and this little break room for the cooks. I spoke to some of them, trying to get dirt on the compound. Strangely enough, they're all new here. They were all employed right before the recruits started showing up. They live here in Veilstone, so I asked what people outside knew about the compound, and they said that most people don't even know it's here on the outskirt of their town." He shrugged. "I also asked if they knew of anyone else who was employed as a chef here, and they said they never heard of anyone working here, and that they would because chefs of the restaurants in town keep up with each other. Isn't that odd?" I agreed. "And on the other side," he pointed directly across from our hallway leading upstairs to one parallel to it, "is where more recruits stay. Their rooms and baths, you know. That's all I've gathered about rooms here. I heard that there are three stories, all housing bedrooms and offices and, really, anything else. And there's a large basement, so I hear, that's restricted access. Once you go down a staircase, you meet a steel wall where you must have a certain keycard to get in. That's the same with a lot of the rooms on the top floor and rooms randomly throughout the compound."

"You sneaky, sneaky boy you." I said, and he laughed.

"Well, it's what I do. I like to know everything that I can, especially about situations like this. I like to familiarize myself with as much as possible, and try to be ahead of the game. That causes fewer surprises."

"Owen, I hate to break it to you, but I have a strong feeling we're _all _going to be surprised; no matter what."

"Volkner," he mimicked me, "I hate to break it to you, but I have a feeling you're right…And that's terrifying."

* * *

The rest of the evening was spent wandering around the compound. Owen and I decided to run through the obstacle course a bit; practicing more and more. After, Scrambly Guy was released from the infirmary, and Owen wanted to see him. We walked with him up to the dorm room, where he sat on his top bunk. He told us that he passed out, and that he can't believe he did that. He was still a bit breathless as he spoke. They knew each other, Owen and Scrambly Guy—Seth—from Eterna, where they were neighbors. Not the greatest of friends back home, they said, but they knew of each other; and apparently that was enough to be best friends in the Callousen. It made sense, because even though I hated to admit it, I felt dreadfully alone before Owen, and somewhere inside me I knew seeing a familiar face would be comforting.

Seth admitted to dealing with breathing problems, but still thinks he can do better. Owen seemed genuinely concerned about him, and gave me a cautious look. We were thinking the same thing: He wouldn't reach qualifications. Owen assured him that he could get better, and this was just the first day; everyone was out of shape. Seth grinned, and patted Owen's shoulder. They announced that they were going to play cards, and invited me to join them and the others that had entered the room; but I declined.

Making my way back downstairs, the commanders had gathered at a table in the dining hall. I stopped just short of the doorway, hoping they couldn't see me. I heard them talking about something: The competition. From what I understood, the two groups from the two "wings" of the compound were competing against each other. Half the commanders were responsible for one of the "teams," and half were responsible for the other.

After hearing this, I shot back up to the dorm. "You guys," I said, addressing my roommates. They all looked up at me.

"What is it, Promising Guy?" One of them said. I started to speak, but then stopped and gave him a weird look.

_"Promising Guy?" _I echoed.

He made a face, like it was perfectly obvious. "It's what we call you. Your nickname, 'Promising Guy,'" he made a big motion in the air, to make it even more dramatic, "since Jeck called you _promising_ when he introduced you." I squinted at him, and opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn't; so I just stood there squinting with my mouth open. He shrugged. "At least it's not Unpromising Guy."

"_Anyways, _I just heard the commanders speaking downstairs. You know the newbies that sleeps on the other side of the compound, who were always in different groups than us, who ate on the opposite side of the dining hall?" Some of them nodded. "We're _against _them. The eight commanders are split, four of them are in charge of us, and the other four are in charge of them."

Seth stood up. "Wait, what does that mean?"

Shrugging, I said: "I've got no idea. So we should keep our guard up…No pun intended, and keep this in mind."

"And _why? _Sounds like a waste of my time to worry about these stupid little conspiracy theories." Someone said. His tone was annoying, to say the least.

"Because maybe we'll need that kind of information," I said.

"For what?" One of the Fyn's said.

Owen stood up next to Seth. "I think we can all agree this place is a little more intimidating than we thought. Having an understanding of…This place, can be detrimental to…Well, our survival."

Seth started to speak, but the door swung open and rammed into me; knocking me off balance and into the wall. It was Commander Carsen: "Dinner's almost ready Newbies, let's go. No longer than twenty seconds." Everyone was up on their feet and out the door. I quickly followed; Owen and Seth waited in the back of the group for me.

The dining hall—admittedly—smelled amazing. Even though I knew I smelled Pokémon meat, it still made me take a large breath. We sat at the same table we sat at for lunch and breakfast, as did everyone else. This time, there was a plate filled with long, green pole-like vegetables, one with steaming bread, another with potallion berries, or more casually known as potatoes—hybrid potatoes, what are ya gonna do?

And then the last dish: Starly. There were two cooked Starly bodies on our table. We all looked at each other, making faces, but we picked off the meat and put it on our plates. Honestly it didn't taste awful. It was juicy and soft; and I hated myself for enjoying it even in the slightest. The images of the little Starly, with their big bright eyes and delicate-looking wings, filled my mind and made me sick. I downed my water quickly after that one.

We were dismissed from the dining hall, after being told to clean up our tables. We had to clear them of all the leftover plates from the day and wipe them down with soapy water. "This isn't the job of a guard," someone muttered, and Commander Chase grabbed him by the shoulder.

"It's the job for a _newbie; _you're not an official guard yet, punk." He shoved the recruit, then sulked off. I saw some of the newbies eye one another as they worked. They were becoming more and more alarmed, I think.

But we would get used to this. It's just Day One. We would get into the flow of things, and everything would even out. That's how life works, right?

_No, _I thought, _It's not…But I better keep trying to convince myself that it is._

* * *

**Authors Note:** Yo! Prepare yourselves, because I have a lot to say:

Firstly, sorry for the week-late update. I unofficially had been updating every Wednesday, sometimes even twice a week at the beginning of this story, and I skipped last week because I was on vacation. It was amazingly fun and I had no time to write or prepare this chapter for updating. Plus I had horrible internet. I know I must have ruined your week by not giving you some Volkner antics and sarcasm, and you all missed me so much, but stop your tears because I have returned. The weekly updates will hopefully continue, but I must admit that I'm having lots of writers block, since I'm striving to make this story really great and not to ruin everyone's intentions. Since I understand that this story has already gone in a different, and possibly darker, direction than what you may have expected.

That being said, this story isn't going to be only about Volkner's Callousen journey. He's not going to be in it forever (spoiler alert? Nah) and eventually does start training. This story will go through that as well. Plus, in my opinion this part of the story is pretty boring (probably why I have writers block) and it won't be this boring and tedious for too much longer, I assure you!

Some of you may have noticed that Cynthia has been added to the character list. I have in fact decided to write this story through the events of TCB! I thought about it and decided that seeing events of TCB through Volkner's POV would be really cool and interesting and I'm excited for it! It will only be certain events, however, and there will be time-jumps when necessary-But i think you all will really enjoy that. Thoughts?

Anyways! Thanks for reading all that, and I certainly hope you all liked this chapter. I understand it seemed rushed in a lot of parts, and I'm going to try to make chapters longer from now on, but nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed. This is probably my weakest chapter yet, and I assure you this isn't how it's always going to be. Haha.

Thank you again!


	8. Tolerance

_Chapter Seven: Tolerance_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

The next day was fairly similar to the first. This time all the commanders were continuously yelling instructions at us, and getting more involved. Commander Days and Carsen were our commanders, and they weren't as forceful as the others. Commander Chase's group was constantly being thrown into pushups or sit-ups. Owen was in his group, but luckily not Seth—he was in mine. I kept an eye on him. He was pushing himself through the obstacle courses and up the ropes and rock wall, looking pale and breathing heavily, but he was doing better. When lunch came, we all needed that break.

More Starly and Oran berries. The Oran berries were good for perking you up, and by the time we went outside for running, we were ready to go. The four laps were just as difficult, and both of my sides ached like knives were shoved into them, but we made it through. This time, the last_ two_ people had to do the suicides. Seth had trucked a little bit harder, and it paid off since he wasn't one of the last people. They were two Fyn's. They made it through, both of them slowing down to a walk and the commanders would scream at them to run again; but they finished, and we went back into the training room. They announced that we would get a short break, and then we would meet up back in here. Owen, Seth and I sat on the padded floor of the training room in silence. We were all too exhausted to speak. We were woken up even earlier this morning, our commanders desperate for us to get to the dining hall before the others—and we successfully did. I almost asked them why they wanted that, but like everyone else, I knew: Never speak unless spoken to.

This proved the point that the two sides of the compound were against each other. But why? Why did it matter, and what did that mean for the losing side?

While waiting in line for the obstacle courses, I made sure to take a long look around. Each group was made up of various people; we all seemed to be on the same level as a group. And that made me feel relieved. The two groups that were from the other side of the compound didn't seem too much better, but one of them housed The Tool Benches. They were climbing up and down the ropes like it was no problem. Sighing, I had to look away. I didn't know what the qualification or the competition was all about, and that scared me more than I would like to admit.

Our break was short-lived, and the group of eight commanders was back in the training room, summoning all the recruits. "Stand up," Days announced, "Day Two is another day of tolerance, but tomorrow isn't. Tomorrow is the first day punishments are ensued. Admittedly, most of you have been doing a good job, but some of you better be prepared for consequences. Frankly, I'm talking about Commander Reg and Hayden's training group." We looked around, trying to see someone from that group. "You all put up a fight in training, but keep _picking fights_ with each other in your dorms, and that's just annoying."

"Days," one of the commanders stepped up, "since when is that a problem? Them fighting amongst themselves is none of our concern."

"Commander Reg, everything the recruits do is our concern. Until they're Officials, we do everything we can to mold them."

"Mold us?" Someone in the crowd spoke up, and I realized it was Seth. Within the confines of the crowd, no one noticed it was he who spoke out of line.

Days nodded. "Yeah. You will understand with time."

"_Were _you spoken to?!" Commander Reg yelled to the crowd, and scanned it for the culprit. "You're lucky today is the last day of tolerance."

Commander Days cleared his throat loudly. "That being said, tomorrow is also the first day of new training. Not with Pokémon, yet. You will train to be a fighter. You will start to learn your strengths and weaknesses, and we commanders will take note of them as well. That will help us place you for jobs once you're all Officials. As for now, we're going to have some fun." A grin spread across his face; one that made a feeling pit in my stomach. I gulped, expecting to feel nervousness—but I felt excitement. The genuine grin on his face, not a sinister one that Jeck would sport, made me excited. I looked at Seth and Owen, and they looked back at me with the same, unsure look on their faces. I shrugged, and stood up with the rest of the recruits.

We were led downstairs. The slim, spiral staircase winded down to a small, dark hallway. We were approached with a large metal door that slid open when Commander Days used his keycard. The door revealed a long, straight hallway with many doors. We went to the first door, another door only accessible with a keycard, and all of us were waved in by Days.

The room was huge, all black except for glowing spots covering the walls and ceiling, and there were obstacles and dividers everywhere. The commanders gathered in front us; Days, Carsen and Chase, and they looked at us, with those grins still planted on their faces. They each held up what looked like guns, but then they pulled the trigger and a laser shot out and bounced off the ceiling, smashing back into a divider. People in the crowd of recruits let out noises of excitement, and Days said: "Alright! We're gonna have some fun. Each of you will get a gun, and each of you will be separated into three teams. One for each of us," he nodded to his fellow commanders, "and then the game will begin. The lasers don't actually hurt, but they do, as you saw, bounce off of other objects once, so be sure to pay attention. If you get hit once, you're out. Last team standing wins, first team out has to clean the compound tomorrow after training." He chuckled. "I'll pick my team first." They chose until the teams were filled. I was on a team with some Fyn's, Seth and random recruits. Chase chose all the Tool Benches and any other older or stronger-looking guys, and Carsen was stuck with the rest of the Fyn's and Owen. They handed us each a gun, and then the next thing I knew, Carsen yelled "Game on!" and lasers were flying everywhere.

I ducked and sprinted towards the obstacles to take cover. Kneeling behind a half-wall, a few of my teammates crowded around me. Some poked their heads up and started shooting, after gaining some courage I did the same. The lasers shot out of the gun quickly, and it surprised me. I saw one of my opponents point their gun in my direction so I quickly ducked back down. Knowing that this spot, crouched behind this half-wall with like five other people, wouldn't get me anywhere; I sprinted towards a doorway. Through the doorway, I realized I had entered into a maze. "Crap!" I muttered, then a laser shot past my head. I spun around and started moving backwards; Owen, with a grin planted on his face, had his laser gun pointed at me. I matched his grin, then turned back around and darted into the maze.

"Volkner!" I heard him call, followed by laughter. I laughed, too, and ran as hard as I could and in a random fashion. Eventually, I rounded a corner and almost ran right into a Tool Bench. Before he could react, I shot a laser right on his stomach.

"What!" he yelled, "That's not fair!"

"Gotta go!" I ran past him and around another corner, and I heard other running footsteps. Someone was close. I stood, ready, and waited for someone to round a corner until…

Days, my team captain, came around and quickly shot a laser at me. It hit me right on the face, surprisingly not hurting at all, and then he let out a breath of relief. "Sorry about that, you're not out, don't worry." He walked up to me and clamped his hand on my shoulder. "I just cleared everyone in the maze. Chase's team is almost done, Carsen still has some guys out there—a lot of hiders, no fighters let me say—and then we still have a good number. Game on." He grinned, winked, and ran past me. I sprinted around the corner and saw the exit to the maze. I ran out and to the nearest divider. An opponent was crouching and hiding, he saw me, gasped, and quickly hit the trigger and a bunch of lasers bounced out and off the walls and ceiling. I dodged a few, then shot him. I got behind the divider, and felt a hand hit my shoulder. I flinched, and brought the gun around and almost hit Seth in the face. He chuckled at me, saying: "Owen is still out there, and he's been trying to get me almost this whole time!"

"How many people are left?"

"Not a lot, the commanders have been taking people out left and right. Nobody knows what they're doing except them." Lasers bounced around us, and we looked at each other. "You take the right side, I got left. Go!" I jumped out and began shooting. The lasers for my team were colored blue, the other two were red and yellow. Two Fyn's shot at us, but we eventually got both of them. Then the two of us went back into the maze.

We were looping through and came to a dead end. Swiftly we turned on our heels to go back and try to find the right path. I heard another set of footsteps and motioned to Seth to stop. The other footsteps stopped as well, and it sounded like they were right on the other side of the seven-foot wall. I took a step back and shot a few lasers towards the ceiling. They bounced off and down on the other side of the wall. "Hey!" Someone yelled.

"Owen?! No way!" Seth laughed.

"Dang it! I thought I had you guys! Who shot me?!"

"It was all Volkner, Buddy. Sorry, we have some butt to go kick!" Seth started sprinting again, and I was on his tail. We looped out of the maze and back to the main area. The commanders and some others were all ducking behind walls and shooting. Lasers were bouncing everywhere, and I got hit once or twice but all by my own team colors.

We quickly got behind a divider and shot off a few shots, hoping to hit someone. Then Commander Chase summersaulted behind our divider, while Seth and I were both shooting at Carsen, and got us both out. At first we made noises of aggravation, but as we walked towards the large group of recruits that had already gotten out, we were grinning and high-fiving each other. We were in the final ten; that was something.

After watching the commander's finish off the few remaining recruits, we watched them battle it out. In the end, Carsen was victorious.

"Alright, the first team out was, unfortunately, Chase's team. Have fun cleaning tomorrow. And the winning team was Carsen's team." Days started applauding, and we joined in.

As we walked back upstairs, all the recruits were laughing and retelling things that had happened while in-game. It was nice to all feel united with these people who were obviously in the same boat I was in. No one knew what to expect out of this experience, and I'm pretty sure we all joined in similar ways: all on a limb; suddenly, and nonsensical.

But I guess it made sense, because I was one of them, and we were the same—and on our way to being guards.

When we were back in our room, after most of us took a shower, Seth and Owen started another mass card game. This time I joined in, and I was actually enjoying myself. That night when I lay in my bunk, for the first time I didn't have any doubts about this choice. _Maybe this won't be so bad._

* * *

They weren't kidding when they said that tolerance was over. The next day the commanders were even sterner than usual—who knew that was possible—and they were constantly yelling at us recruits for basically everything. I heard "Tolerance is _over, _step it up!" so many times that it echoed throughout my mind for the rest of the day.

We skipped the obstacle courses and went right to sprints then workout equipment. I was okay with this; the repetitiveness of the obstacle courses had gotten old, and waiting in line doing push-ups wasn't my favorite thing in the world.

Since being in The Callousen I've been continuously sore. Today, however, the soreness felt _great _and I felt empowered. As much as I hate to admit it, I felt like the meat I was eating was actually helping with this, too. It's still disgusting and a horrible thought, but in all honesty, it was protein and a power food.

After lunch, we were taken back downstairs and introduced to a new room: The Combat Room. It was set up in stations, like the training room, and throughout the middle it housed large mats; undoubtedly where we would practice on each other. I noted a knife throwing station, a punching bag station, a station which simply housed swords, and a gun shooting station. The whole sight was a bit overwhelming honestly. When I first arrived and saw the training room I thought the complete opposite; but this room was nothing if not intimidating. The eerie fluorescent basement lighting that only lit up the weapons, targets and combat mats; the low-ceilings; black and red painted walls; all that combined added up to quite the amount of intimidation.

A few commanders took turns explaining some things to us. Firstly, the guns are only used by commanders and we will not practice with them _at all. _Secondly,if you disobey authority while in the combat room, be prepared for a high-level punishment. Lastly, when you're fighting your opponent, you shouldn't go easy on them—no matter what. You're fighting to honor Champion Lea, and you show that through your determination and by fighting your best.

We were separated into our all-too familiar groups. My group started at knife throwing. Commander Carsen started instructing us: "These knives are known as blade-heavy knives. Self-explanatory. They're the best for beginners such as you. Now, find your target line," we did as he said and faced our targets, "take two steps backwards, and turn so your weak side faces the target. For you right-handed people, that would be your left side, and vice versa." I took two steps backwards, turned so my left side was facing the target, and waited my next instruction. "Now hold the knife like this," he held his hand up and showed us. His thumb was on one side, and all of his fingers were on the other; holding the knife vertically. I copied. "Bring it back carefully, and then—" he swiftly pulled his arm back, then flicked the knife forward while shifted his weight to his weak side, and stepping into the throw at the end. The knife tumbled blade-over-handle until it smashed into the target. Not a bull's-eye, but not a terrible shot. "You can either toss it like that, or simply by facing the target. Personally I acquire more power in my throw the way I do it, but it's your call." He shrugged, and waited for us to begin. A few people started throwing knives. Most of them didn't even reach the target, but some of the crashed past them—missing by more than a foot.

Holding the knife the way I was told, it felt unsteady in my grip. My hand was positioned awkwardly, but I assumed I would get used to it. I started to quickly shift my weight to my weak side, step a little and then I let it slip out of my fingers. The knife wobbled through the air, missed the target, and weakly fell to the ground. I got another knife. This time I faced the target, because I thought that the hesitance I felt to bring the knife across my body would slow me down, and facing the target I would have nothing to stop me. So I threw it, and there was definitely more power in my toss, but I missed the target by even more. But I nodded, because at least I knew how to improve.

Although I didn't improve; by the time we were done I hadn't hit the target once. In fact I was certain I had gotten worse. Knife throwing wasn't my specialty.

Next, we were all partnered up and placed at a punching bag. Days taught us the correct way to throw a punch. We began punching, and it was more difficult than I expected; I assumed it would be easy to just simply punch a bag, but it wasn't.

Someone let out a cry of pain, and Days was quickly at their side. "All-too common mistake: pointing your thumb outward. Make sure it's curled around your knuckles tightly."

After me and my partner were done, we were ushered to the next section: Swords. We were simply taught the correct way to hold and swing the long blade, and that was all. Days and Carsen told us we, unfortunately, wouldn't learn to swordfight. I was disappointed, because I liked the swift movements of the blade and I knew I would be good at it; but oh well.

We all gathered as a large group again. "That's enough combat for today. We'll let you have free reign of this room, to practice whatever you please, but afterwards we're going back upstairs for the night." Chase announced. "That was just the introductory. Tomorrow we begin _training. _We'll push you to your limits, and then we'll end the day by you finally fighting each other. Be prepared for a long day, Newbies, and I suggest you get to practice."

Owen, Seth and I stood around a punching bag taking turns. We didn't say much; only briefly talked about how difficult fighting would be, and how the commanders are much harsher now that the days of tolerance are over. Owen said that a few people in his group were talking about how they were slapped in their dorms, because one of them mouthed-off to Commander Reg.

"There are rumors about these punishments, man," Owen said and shook his head, "they can be brutal. At first, they're slaps on the face or little punches to the shoulders or being shoved around. But they can turn into serious things. Officials who get in trouble are _seriously _punished." Seth had stopped punching to listen to Owen. "Apparently, this one guard who lived in this compound a while ago decided to play an epic prank on Commander Reg, and expertly framed a group of recruits. Commander Reg _flipped _and _whipped _the group of recruits. The other commanders weren't totally pleased with it, and they_ knew _it couldn't have been the recruits, so they eventually found the real culprit. Reg was so pissed that he _threw a knife _into the guard's lower back. Apparently it lodged itself in there good and caused a lot of damage for the guard, so much so that he got kicked out of the Callousen, because he could no longer do his job, and got sent to the League."

"Why to the League?" I asked, and he shrugged. That was the end of that conversation.

Combat training the next day was similar. Knife throwing was a little more productive; I actually hit the target. Then when we were done, we lined up next to the fighting mat. The commanders explained that we would fight each other for an allotted time, or until one of the two gets knocked out. The thought was a bit nerve-wracking, but I couldn't let these things start bothering me now. Not when I've come so far. At least, it feels like I've come far.

I tried not to think about it.

The first two fighters were randomly chosen. They looked evenly matched; same height and weight, and probably the same age. They awkwardly stood there looking at each other. Days reminded them the proper way to fight, but they weren't doing anything. Commander Chase swore, and then yelled at them to fight. One of the recruits got startled and threw a punch; hitting the other in the shoulder. He returned a punch to the jaw, and we watched them awkwardly punch each other until time ran out.

Chase was so angry at their 'pitiful fighting attempt' that he said: "Let me show you pansies something." And then punched one of the recruits so hard in the face he fell to the ground. The other recruit looked terrified, and when Chase went to punch him, he quickly covered his face. "_Coward! _How do you expect to serve Champion Lea if you're a _coward!" _

The recruit threw a hesitant punch out of anger, but Chase grabbed his fist and twisted his arm. The recruit let out a cry of pain and kicked the commander as hard as he could. It only angered Chase more, and he threw the recruit to the ground and kicked him himself. "That's how you fight." Chase turned and left the combat room in a rush, leaving Days and Carsen to get the recruits to their feet. They chose the next two, who looked just as hesitant and awkward, and then continued picking pairs until finally…It was my turn.

Owen and Seth had already gone; Seth was against a Fyn, who tried to put up a fight and was pretty feisty, but Seth actually ended up throwing him to the ground. I could tell he was proud of himself, and in-between gasps of breath; he was grinning. Owen wasn't as lucky, he was more evenly matched and was the one of the ground. But me, I was against a Tool Bench. He wasn't taller than me, but his arms were bulky and mine, well, weren't. He took the first swing, and I dodged. Then I went for his neck, but he slapped my arm away and punched me in the chest. A large breath escaped my lips and I stumbled back, and he punched me again. I punched him in the shoulder, trying to think of him as a punching bag, but he punched me even harder in the face; right on my left cheek.

It had already felt like forever, but I knew I wasn't near finishing yet. Tool Bench acted as if he was surprised by his own punch, and he stood there, waiting for something to happen. I took the opportunity by going to his neck again, where he flinched away—so I kicked him in the shin, and he let out a surprised cry. I punched him—in the neck, finally—and he retaliated with a jab to my stomach. I doubled-over, and he pushed me to the ground. He kicked me hard in my side, and I tried to grab his foot. What I would do with his foot if I caught it I didn't know; but it was my strategy.

"Time's up," Carsen yelled, and got up on the matt. "Volkner?"

"Yeah?" My voice was hoarse. He didn't say anything else; just pulled me to my feet. Just when I had gotten over being sore, all of it came back in a rush as I stood. My head pounded, and I got dizzy and tripped off the matt.

When I hit the floor I contemplated staying there, but I quickly opened my eyes and got on my feet. Owen rushed over to me and offered his arm, but I shook my head. I couldn't start showing weakness. Not now; so I didn't.

That night, we all sat at our usual table for dinner. There was chit-chat among the group about nothing in particular as we ate our cheesy potatoes and burgers. Most of the recruits had already finished eating and left, but we were taking our time and just sitting there. The commanders, who were doing the same thing, didn't care so we continued.

Suddenly Commander Reg stormed into the dining hall dragging a Tool Bench by his ear behind him; his face as red as Miss Karp's that day I told her that her perfume was distracting me because it smelled of baby barf and rotting corpse.

Turns out she wasn't wearing perfume.

However, Commander Reg's angry red face was very different from Birdbrains. He was bald, and his face looked tiny compared to his giant, shiny head. "Mister Lawrence was up in his dorm causing mischief," Reg announced. The other commanders didn't respond, which angered Reg even more. "Someone said he wanted to _prank _me."

"I wasn't going to—"

"_Shut up!" _Reg let go of the kid's ear and slapped him. "Stupid Newbie, you _do not _talk to your commander like that. You will be punished! _Tolerance is over!" _He grabbed the recruits arm and pulled him towards an empty table. "Stand on the table!" The Tool Bench obeyed. Commander Reg reached into his pocket and pulled out something. "Take this," again, he obeyed. By this time a lot of the recruits who had left the dining hall returned; including a few Officials, who were usually MIA from the compound or only seen outside guarding the fence. "Admit what you've done to these people, then mark your palm."

"What?! You—" He started, but Reg interrupted him by grunting.

"I said do it!"

The recruit, Lawrence, flipped open what appeared to be a pocket knife. He hesitantly looked towards the table of fellow commanders. I followed his gaze; some of them looked amused, and the rest looked distant and unfazed. No one was going to stop him.

Lawrence's Adams apple bobbed, and then he spoke: "I…I was going to prank Commander Reg by stealing all of his man-panties from his room and hanging them here in the dining hall," a smirk crossed his face when a few recruits and Officials started to laugh.

"Oh no," I muttered. Owen looked at me and started to say something, but it had already happened. Reg leapt onto the table and grabbed the knife himself.

"You think this is a joke, do you? Are you laughing now?" He pressed the pocket knife into Lawrence's palm, and you could tell he was struggling not to make a sound of pain. "I hate pranks!" He returned the knife to his pocket and jumped off of the table. "You people remember that!" He screamed, and left Lawrence standing on the table, clutching his hand which had filled with blood.

Seth scrambled out of his seat and ran to the kitchen; quickly returning with paper towels and a bag filled with ice. I got up, too, and approached Lawrence and Seth.

"So that sucked." I said dryly.

"No kidding," Lawrence replied, then chuckled. "I don't even know how I was going to get away with stealing and hanging his underwear."

"But it was a genius idea…You know, I bet I could still make that happen." I smirked, but his smile faded away.

"No, no…I would just get blamed and punished again. Even if he knew it wasn't me, I was the brains who gave you the idea." He looked at his hand and removed the ice. A red slip cut across his palm. "It doesn't even hurt, but…"

"It still sucks, I get it." I sat beside him at the table. "We'll get him back someday. Deal?"

Lawrence slightly smiled. "Deal."

"And if you ever need a _hand…_" I motioned to his injured, bleeding hand and grinned. He looked unamused. "Too soon?"

"Just a little, Promising Guy."

Seth erupted in laughter when I made a face of bafflement. "What?! You too?! You're not even on our side of the compound!"

He laughed, "That's what everyone here calls you. Trust me, I don't understand it either." He grinned.

"Firstly, _ouch; _secondly, don't call me that."

"At least it's not Unpromising Guy!" Someone from our table yelled.

"Shut up Owen!" I yelled back. Seth was still dying of laughter, and a little from lack of air, and Lawrence announced that he was going to go back to his dorm room. "Stay out of mischief, you man-panty thief." He paused and gave me a look, but then continued out of the room. The other recruits began to leave as well, and Seth and I went up to our dorm.

The dorm was nearly empty; everyone else was hanging out in the training room. Only a few recruits were lying in their bed, possibly sleeping. I climbed into my bunk; although it was smaller than my bed back home, it was surprisingly comfortable and I felt a sense of privacy in the top bunk.

Seth had moved into the bottom bunk of mine; sleeping under Davon, the worst snorer in our dorm room, wasn't working out too well for him. "Can you believe tomorrow is only Day Five?" Seth asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"No, actually. It feels like it's been years since I've been here."

"I know. I don't even remember what five days in the outside world felt like. Were five days always this long, or is time somehow altered here?"

"Time's definitely altered. That's the only obvious answer."

Seth paused. "I knew it!"

Chuckling, I rolled over on my side. Moments later I heard the slight sound of Seth's snoring. Seth's snoring wasn't exactly a snore, but instead a rhythmic gasp for air. That kid could fall asleep instantaneously. I can't say much, though; because moments after that, I was sleeping too.

* * *

The next morning came too fast. Like most mornings, I guess. When I woke up I felt like I had gotten plenty of sleep, but like I hadn't slept for long. Like always I didn't dream; I never did. Never had nightmares either, it never happened. Rayne was convinced I was insane; never dreaming. She would sometimes come over early in the morning and sit on my bed, telling me her newest dream in vivid detail.

_"And you didn't dream at all?!" _She would say in astonishment.

_"Afraid not; maybe if you didn't give me a concussion when I was a young lad I would dream." _And then she would roll her eyes and murmur Boulder Brain before pulling out her sketchpad to show me what she was up until midnight sketching the night before.

But that was all once upon a time now, and I was done thinking about it.

Breakfast ended, and we were all taken outside for morning running. It was brutal, and we all had to do multiple sprints and suicides. Seth struggled, to say the least. When we were brought back into the training room for weightlifting and obstacle courses, I was pleased when my group was sent to an obstacle course. We all could get through it easily and fast at this point. This was one of the things that even the commanders couldn't say we didn't improve on. We all felt a sense of accomplishment going through the obstacles now that we could do it swiftly and quickly; I know I did.

Lifting and working out was a bit different. I could slightly feel my improvement, and Commander Days could too; I could tell when he gave me heavier weights. I struggled at first, but I made it work.

While heaving myself up the rope, the front door of the compound opened.

Cigar in-hand, weird smile planted on his face, suit as neat as the first time I saw him; Jeck waltzed in. I froze on the rope, everything stopped in place.

Memories of standing in the marketplace, being spoken to by this intimidating man; not knowing that soon, my entire life would change. I thought that I would just go back home, and continue life the way I always had, but that's not what happened at all. That man led me into a brand new life. Would I ever see my old life again?

No, I would never see it again. And he knew that.

Quickly I climbed back down the rope. Suddenly I urged to speak to him; speak to the man that—essentially—changed my life forever. What would I say to him? I didn't know, but that wasn't one of my worries.

"Volkner." Carsen said my harshly, and I stopped. I had only gotten a few feet away, not anywhere near Jeck. "What are you doing?" Carsen came up behind me.

Turning around, I faced my commander respectively. "I was just going to talk to Jeck."

His eyebrows tightened. "About what?"

Shrugging, I said: "I really don't know, Sir…But I…"

"Well, he's busy." He nodded behind me, and I turned around to see another man enter the compound. He had light hair and beady eyes; he was much shorter and smaller than Jeck, and seeing the two of them stand side-by-side was somewhat hilarious.

"Who is he?"

"Champion Lea's advisor Maroon, here to scope the recruits for Lea most likely." Carsen clamped his hand on my shoulder. "Best get back to the weights. Jeck will be here for the rest of the day."

Nodding, I did as I was told. Although Commander Carsen didn't scare me, I didn't question the fact that if he was pushed, there would be no difference between him and Reg. That was seemingly commander mentality, or so I was led to believe; to not be afraid to punish wrongdoings, and to be harsh when doing such. Carsen could get harsh, I think, and I didn't want to see that.

Jeck and Maroon walked around the training room; sometimes stopping to talk to commanders. Everything I did I felt like I was being observed, and I felt rigid while doing these things. Usually when I was training, my mindset would be to focus and get it done. I would be right on track and not think about much, but not today; I was so off that track. My mind was racing, and I couldn't even tell you why.

Maybe it was the thought that I was being _scoped _for Champion Lea. It was too easy to forget that I was here for some purpose. I was training to become an Official Guard of Lea. How could I keep forgetting that? This training process would someday be over and I'll be expected to be a guard. What that meant exactly I wasn't sure of, but I would learn, and I would do it.

All of a sudden, it seemed essential for me to excel here; and I had the realization that I had no idea how to do that. Was I failing? Succeeding? How would I know?

My worries followed me to lunch, where I sat at my table with my roommates in silence. No one questioned me; I wasn't very talkative here anyways. I kept glancing at where Jeck and Maroon sat; with the Commanders, who were joking and laughing.

Downstairs in the combat room, I didn't feel better. My uneasiness and sudden uncomfortableness didn't leave. Why I felt so out of place throwing knives and throwing punches at a punching bag suddenly, I didn't quite understand. It's like I was in quicksand, and every inch I dropped the more anxious and desperate I became.

And then it was fighting time. We stood around and watched the first few pairs fight. Some of the recruits were becoming more comfortable with fighting, while others were still stiff while attempting to fight. But I couldn't do it. The thought of fighting today seemed implausible. I was much too distracted. Looking over at Jeck, who stood away from Maroon, I contemplated going over there. I had this _urge _to go speak to him; ask him for advice; _anything. _

My palms started to sweat, my anxiousness was escalating and I bit my lip—hard. The commanders around me were either speaking to Maroon or too focused on the fighting to notice me step towards Jeck. He gave me a look that I can't explain, one that displayed confusion and annoyance and something else entirely. But I continued; I approached him.

Of course I didn't say anything at first, leading to him speaking: "And, who are you?"

For some reason, I didn't believe that he didn't remember me, so I ignored his first comment. "Jeck…" I spoke, my voice clear and strong, "you have to help me." The words spilled from my mouth, I didn't think about them before saying them.

He sighed, like he didn't have time for this. "With what?"

"_Everything!" _I whispered; my strong voice quickly turning into pure desperation. "I feel like I'm hanging on by a thread, here…Like my whole life could be over within seconds. I feel like I'm constantly on a tightrope. Usually I can ignore it like it doesn't matter; like I was born to be here, and that I'm going to make it through and be fine…But at the same time, in the back of my head, I feel…Dead."

Something crossed his face. His eyebrows drew together, and his eyes looked sympathetic. "Volkner," he let out a jagged breath and his facial expression returned to its annoyed look, "you'll be _fine. _You're _doing _fine." He placed a firm hand on my shoulder, a gesture that was all-too common in the guard world. "Stop this. Listen, just get through the rest of this week. Today's only Day Five. Day Eight is when they start Pokémon training, hear me?" I nodded, although I didn't understand his point. He must have gathered that when he continued: "You'll excel. You'll impress your commanders, insuring your safety."

"Safety from what?"

"Termination, mostly. Not all of you recruits are Callousen material. The commanders already have their Un-favored Newbies. You're not one of them."

"What happens if you're terminated? Just go back home?" The idea didn't sound horrible at first thought, but after only a few seconds—it sounded dreadful.

He shook his head, and slightly chuckled. "You wish." He paused. "Just keep laying low. You'll know in time where you stand, and then you'll improve. Soon you'll be working for Lea, Kid."

Relief spread through me, and I breathed again. I didn't understand why this brought me so much comfort, but it did comfort me. Jeck knows what he's talking about, I should trust his word. "I knew you knew who I was." I smirked, and he rolled his eyes.

"Don't get cocky on me now. I get enough of that from Officials, and you're just a Newbie, Volkner." Behind me I heard Commander Chase announce that they had ran out of time for fighting; that we needed to go back upstairs for more workouts. I walked back to the group, without any form of goodbye to or from Jeck, and followed them to the training room.

Although I felt relieved since talking to Jeck, I still felt hesitant and uneasy. Knowingly, I couldn't talk to Owen or Seth or anyone else about it; that would show too much weakness. I already regretted speaking to Jeck for that same reason, but something about him seemed safe.

How could I feel that way about the person who lured me from my home, and introduced me to this messed up—I knew I didn't even scratch the surface of _messed up_—life?

Behind his rough exterior was a sympathetic man, I was convinced by the quick glances of pity in his eyes. He put up a front, but he wasn't as bad as he came across. Convincing, conniving and conning; yeah, but he was sympathetic enough to give me honest advice. So I found him safe, somehow. And hearing his advice, and that he was confident in me getting through The Shadows, was comforting.

Oh, what have I become?

* * *

**Authors Note:** I do not condone Pokemon meat eating, by the way. Haha.

All feedback about this chapter is greatly encouraged, obviously I tried to cover a lot of time; how did you like that?

Anywho, I hope you all are still enjoying this story and having a great life. Thanks for taking the time to read, it's appreciated and loved. YOU'RE APPRECIATED AND LOVED.

*Also: When going to upload this chapter, I almost uploaded it to Snake Eyes. Wouldn't THAT be hilarious. #GetItTogetherPureGamer


	9. Knives

_Chapter Eight: Knives_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

It was Day Seven. The past two days blended together; breakfast, training, lunch, combat training, dinner, more training, then sleep. Jeck and Maroon were gone; they left the night of Day Five. Owen, Seth and I were pretty exhausted from everything. The adrenaline of the first few days ebbed, and we were faced with being ridiculously sore and tired. Seth and Owen, of course, had been in The Shadows longer than I had, only by about a week, but here, where time was altered, it made all the difference. Seth made comments about not even remembering what his sister looked like, not remembering the layout of his house, and other depressing things. Owen added his own depression, but I stayed out of it. I didn't want to think about my sisters, or the layout of my house, or anything back home. I needed to focus on the here and now.

We were eating lunch. My roommates were chatting amongst themselves as usual. Seth was winded from the first bit of training; _lots _of running. His breathing problems had gotten a lot better, he said, but sometimes there was nothing he could do to control it. So he was quiet sitting beside me, and I was thankful. His depressed attitude was not wanted by me at that time.

One of my roommates was talking to Owen across from Seth and me, he said: "Have you noticed the difference in the commanders today?"

"What do you mean?" Owen replied. I became interested, because honestly I hadn't noticed anything difference in them.

"The commanders have barely been talking. They're all…Dazed, or something. Out of it."

Owen thought for a moment, and looked towards the commanders table. I looked too, and saw that they were all sitting and eating, without saying a word to each other or looking at any of the recruits' tables. "You're right!" Owen declared. "I wonder why?"

The recruit shrugged, "I don't know, but something's bothering them, and it makes me a little uncomfortable."

"Maybe it has something to do with the competition between the sides of the compound?" I spoke up, making my two roommates look at me.

"It's possible, but…" Owen shrugged, "I doubt they would be intimidated about something like _that. _I mean, that's hardly their problem, it's ours. Right?" I shrugged, and didn't reply. Owen and the recruit started speaking again, about nothing important, and I focused on my plate; Magikarp, leftovers from last night. Gross stuff, fish; they smelled bad and tasted equally as bad. Of course for me the taste could be tainted forever, because I remember being a young lad in Shore, walking through the marketplace with my friends.

We walked passed the section of the marketplace that sold meat. Carcasses hung from the ceiling of some of the booths, and strips of meat were on display everywhere. Since it was Sunyshore, there were lots of fish being sold. One of my friends thought it would be funny to buy Magikarp meat to pull pranks on some of the other kids. I wasn't involved, but he bought it. Later, after an odd series of events, the giant piece of uncooked, dead Water Type landed on my head, covering my small child body like a cloak.

After three long showers, I swore I still smelled like the insides of a Magikarp.

Choking back vomit, I pushed the rest of my plate away along with that memory.

A gasp went through the group of recruits, and I looked around at them confusedly. All I had done was push my plate away, there was no need for such a gasp. Then I followed their gaze. A man, in the midst of a group of commanders, had entered the dining hall. I had never seen him in person, and it took me a minute to recognize him, but it was Champion Lea.

We were speechless as we stared at him. He was speaking quietly to Commander Chase, Carsen, Hayden and Days. Whispers started at my table. "He has the power to sentence any one of us to death, right here, right now!" Owen leaned across the table to whisper to me. I nodded, hesitantly, back. "I guess we know why the commanders were acting weird." He added, and I nodded again.

Lea walked out with a few commanders, and then we were ushered down to the combat room and separated into our groups like normal. My group started at the punching bags, and I tried to not think about Champion Lea being there. Then we were throwing knives. I had gotten so much better that I actually hit the target. But my throws still felt weak, and the knife felt awkward in my hand. I just tried to focus on my throws.

"You call that throwing?" A new voice spoke up. My eyes bugged from my head, and I looked towards Lea. He wasn't looking at me, thankfully, but he started walking towards my group.

He moved forward. Slowly he stepped; lightly, yet with confidence. His facial expression was hard to read. His eyes were focused—his eyebrows ever-so slightly pinched downward. His lips were curled and amused; a face of arrogance, maybe, but doubtfully so.

We stood rigid and still, watching this man stride towards the knives. Everyone eyed him down, not daring to blink or look away. This made me remember when I was first around guards in the marketplace; being in the presence of authority was odd, and it made me feel uncomfortable. Since then, of course, being around guards or commanders wasn't as intimidating; but this was a different story. Even the commanders were different around him. He was the highest in authority. He had the most power of anyone in Sinnoh. He had enough power to sentence anyone here to death, as Owen had said. It was weird to look at someone that could command this entire room to do anything—we all worked for him, he was our boss—yet I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

The only thing you could hear was his boots hitting the floor. With each step the ring of the rubber shoe bottoms meeting the stone got louder and louder. He approached the table that held all of the knives. He picked one up, it was seemingly handle-heavy, and stroked his finger lightly against the sharp blade. As he did this, he examined the blade thoughtfully. He put it down and picked up a blade-heavy knife, one of the ones we use in practice. He stepped toward the white line we were all lined up at. We took a few steps back in unison, giving him space.

He stood, facing the target, and then turned; so his weak side, left, was facing it. He brought the knife out—swiftly, quickly—and swung his arm like he was throwing a Pokéball. Then he let go of the knife. It shot like a bullet toward the target, and then hit perfectly in the center. The target wavered because of the impact, and he stood up straight and returned to the knives.

"That's how you do it," he announced; and everyone in the room stopped breathing. Even though it wasn't the first time he had spoken, we were all a little unnerved. He turned back and approached us again, grinning, and holding a larger knife. "You recruits have a horrible grip on the knives. You hold it like this," he demonstrated, "index, middle and ring fingers belong on the dead center on the handle, or blade. Your little finger can just barely brush it. Then," he took another step back and got into throwing position, "you bring it across, throwing all your weight behind the knife, and, simply, just let it go." He did just that. It hit dead center of the next target. He returned to grab another knife. This time he held it by the blade, just as he said, and he looked at the crowd of newbies. He flashed another smile, and then flicked it effortlessly towards a target—without looking. Dead center, again. Some commanders and recruits made noises of excitement, and Lea nodded. "Now that you all know how to do it correctly, my work here is done."

And with that, he left.

* * *

_ "You'll excel. You'll impress your commanders, insuring your safety." _

_ "Safety from what?" _

_ "Termination, mostly. Not all of you recruits are Callousen material. The commanders already have their Un-favored Newbies. You're not one of them." _

_ "What happens if you're terminated? Just go back home?" The idea didn't sound horrible at first thought, but after only a few seconds—it sounded dreadful. _

_ He shook his head, and slightly chuckled. "You wish." _

Today was the day: Pokémon training. After combat training we gathered outside around the battlefield; the sky looking overcast, as usual, and a chilling breeze whipping by. My body still wasn't used to the cold weather of Veilstone. Compared to Sunyshore, Veilstone felt like Snowpoint.

Maroon had returned on this day to watch us battle. He made me way less nervous now that Lea had visited. Yesterday, after he had come and gone, everyone was talking about him. Either about how intimidating he was, awesome he was, or some mixture of both…He was the talk among the recruits. Even some Officials had joined us for dinner, asking us about him once they heard he visited.

Apparently the head leader of all of Sinnoh was a big deal, or something.

"You all have been given your own Staravia or Luxio. You all know how to battle. If you don't, figure it out. First pair, go!"

The first pair was a Staravia and Luxio. The Luxio owner was a Fyn, and possibly my classmate, who knew what he was doing. He creamed the Staravia, and the Staravia owner was eliminated from the tournament.

The next pair was a little more awkward. They hesitantly called off basic commands; it was obvious they weren't familiar with their given Pokémon. The Pokémon would hardly obey, and it wasn't the most enjoyable thing to watch. Commander Reg would bark at the pair, telling them to step it up and how awful they were doing. Once they were done, the loser, the Luxio, got pulled off to the side and yelled at by Reg. He called on the next pair and yelled: "The person from my group, don't lose this time!"

The person from his group did in fact win, and that calmed him down a bit. We watched more pair's battle; and then it was my turn, and Pikachu and I were up against Owen and his Staravia.

We stood on opposite ends of the battlefield, our commanders watching us carefully. He called out his Staravia, who looked frazzled and confused. And I called out Pikachu. It was the first time I had seen him in eight days, and he was excited. Electricity buzzed off of him and he bounced around excitedly. I grinned; not realizing how much I had missed the little guy. Over the years we had bonded, and he was _my _Pikachu. They also gave me a Luxio, but told me I could only use one of the two in this tournament. Of course I chose Pika.

Owen was excited and called off the first command: "Staravia, Tackle!"

The bird leapt up and flew towards my Pokémon. Pikachu prepared himself quickly. "Quick Attack," I yelled, and Pikachu avoided the Tackle and pounced on the bird inflight; showcasing his amazing speed. Staravia hit the ground hard, and let out a squealed caw. He brought his wing out and flung Pikachu off of himself like a spring, then took to the air again.

"Tackle, again!" Owen's face was less excited, and more focused. I bit my lip, my excitement rising myself, and I grinned.

_ Obviously, I have the advantage; but I need to beat him in a way that will make the commanders remember. _

Staravia tackled Pika before I could command otherwise. He pinned him to the ground with his wings. "Thunder Shock!" Electricity rippled across Pikachu's skin, making the opponent shrink back and roll over on the dirt battlefield—paralyzed. Pikachu jumped up and got into stance, staring down the rival. He growled, and electricity sparked from his red cheeks. "Electro Ball." I grinned, and flicked my eyes up at Owen. He just shook his head at me and smirked. He already knew he was defeated.

Pikachu growled hard; a rumbly, aggressive noise deep in his chest as a ball of sparky voltage formed in front of his face. It grew large quickly, and then shot forward; practically encasing the unmoving foe. Staravia squawked, and started to move—somehow coming out of his paralysis. "Quick Attack," I hurriedly called. Pikachu jumped into action, and the Staravia fell almost lifelessly to the ground. Commander Days blew his whistle. "Staravia is done-for, Volkner and Pikachu will progress."

For the first time that day, the recruits around me who stood and watched all of the battles actually applauded. They cheered excitedly, like the battle had captured their attention. Owen grinned and clapped, and I joined along.

We returned our Pokémon, and handed them to the commanders; where they would heal them for us. We joined Seth in the crowd, and sat in the damp grass. The next battle started, and Owen leaned over to me. "So you and that Pikachu…Obviously have a lot of practice."

Chuckling I replied: "Kind of. I've had him for a really long time. Before I had graduated trainer school I kept him in this abandoned shack in the woods near Shore..." Wow, it was weird talking about home, "and we sort of bonded over the years. I would bring him food every day. Sometimes I would sneak out and spend the night in the shack. It was pretty great."

"So you and Pikachu would get all snuggly, how adorable." Seth mumbled, and then laughed.

"That sounds dangerous." Owen stated, and Seth and I gave him a look. "Well think about it! He stores electricity inside his body _while he sleeps_! Weren't you ever afraid of being accidentally electrocuted?!"

Seth laughed, but I got serious. "Well, I'd be lying if I said I didn't wake up being fried once or twice, actually."

"See!" Owen said.

"Nothing serious, but let's just say I made sure he knew how to control his drowsy zapping real quick."

Owen continued stating Pikachu facts, and I partially zoned out and watched the rest of the battles.

The tournament was more important than we thought.

After the first day of battling, Lawrence came to Seth and I while we were standing in the training room. He said that Commander Reg was so fumed about so many people from his group not being able to win while battling, that he woke all of the recruits on his side of the compound up at midnight by hysterically screaming at them, and took them outside for extra training.

And since it was night and most of them were inexperienced as it was, they kept making mistakes—ending in most of them being violently punished.

"During one of his outburst," Lawrence had said; in a calm, almost hesitant tone, "he said something about a competition against the sides of the compound…And if our side fails in this battling tournament, there will be serious consequences…He even said that most of us probably won't even _get out of here_ if we don't win…And everyone in our room is really worked up about it."

He took a large breath, and explained that he wanted to let us know in case something ridiculous happens. "They've been talking about trying to sabotage your side of the compound somehow. Maybe taking all of your Pokémon and weakening them beforehand. But they'll never be able to do it successfully, don't worry. But…This _"tournament" _is more important than we thought."

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter was named "Knives" as a nod towards Snake Eyes chapter "Instincts and Knives." Fun fact.

Bear with me, things are going to get interesting!

I'm so pleased that I'm getting such positive feedback. It seriously is the best. I know everyone is busy with their lives, so thank you for reading and reviewing, you guys. Keep up the good work!


	10. Sabotage

_Chapter Nine: Sabotage_

_Welcome to the Shadows_

The day of the tournament was pretty normal. I battled twice; one of them was the final battle, between me and a recruit that had his own Prinplup. He put up a worthy fight, but in the end I was the tournament winner. The commanders congratulated me, everyone in our dorm cheered for me, and honestly I felt pretty great. I felt accomplished, and like I had done exactly what Jeck advised. I really started to feel like I was right where I was supposed to be, and I hadn't felt that way…Possibly ever in my life. All my life I just thought about the future, and how _in the future _I would be exactly where I needed to be, and everything would be alright. Obviously I was never so unhappy with my life or my life felt _wrong _before I was in the Callousen, but it never felt exactly _right, _either. There was always something very off.

Finally, I could lie in my bunk at night and have this revelation that things felt right; and the next morning I would wake up and be ready for the day. On top of that, I've never felt healthier, and I could see the change in my muscle tone. I could run twice as hard and fast as ever—and for longer periods of time. Everything was great.

Until a week before graduation from The Shadows.

Everyone was yelling. Each commander was barking insults and telling us to step it up, even Days and Carsen, the most laidback guys in the compound. They were all anxious and nervous. They pushed us harder than ever before; waking us up earlier, training lasting longer, and punishing us for the dumbest things. Even I got slapped by Carsen, because during lunch I made the recruits laugh too much, apparently.

All of this extra work made Seth weak and his lungs weaker. He passed out twice in four days, and everyone in his group was punished for his weakness—that includes me. So he was unhappy and tired and breathless all of the time. This affected everything he did, especially his combat fighting.

He hated fighting other people to begin with—he always lost—but now he completely dreaded it. And the commanders punishing him for always losing and "being a lowlife" wasn't helping. He went to bed with black eyes from Carsen more times than he should have.

Of course, everything got more stressful when they started ranking the fighters—side against side. It was no secret that the compound sides were against each other now. My side of the compound, labelled Lefties, was highlighted in green; Righties were highlighted in red on the ranking board. Lefties definitely had the better fighters, including the top fighter. I was somewhere in the middle, lumped in randomly near Owen; and Seth was nearing the bottom, getting a little closer each day. The bottom guy, a young Fyn—probably the youngest _kid _here—has to run sprints at the end of each day as punishment for being on the bottom. If Seth has to do that, he'll probably die. His lungs would permanently vacation from his body.

But he wasn't that far down, and our group and the Lefties were pulling through and stepping up.

We had all woken up one morning on our own; we had gotten used to the schedule and our bodies didn't let us sleep in. Owen made comments about it being because our bodies were afraid of being punished, which kind of made sense.

Mid t-shirt transformation, commanders burst into our dorm and started harshly yelling things I couldn't understand. With the shirt pulled mostly over my head, I stumbled and fell against one of the bunk beds. That was the least of my problems, because Commander Chase came over to me and ripped my shirt off of me. It tore into two pieces, one piece being suffocated in his sweaty grip, the other falling lifelessly to the floor.

"_Volkner," _my name slid between his clenched teeth, "what did you do?"

"What are you talking about?!"

"You know what I'm talking about!" At that moment, a foul stench found its way to my nostril, and I noticed that Chase was soaked in…Something awful. "Who did this!" He turned around and faced the rest of the room. Everyone was stunned, and no one said a word. "Someone pranked us. Someone , _somehow, _made a contraption above our room door that when we opened it a bucket of curdled Moo Moo milk…" he paused and sniffed, "and possibly other substances, _fell _on us, and we are _outraged _that you would show so much _disrespect _towards your commanders!"

"Sir, none of us did it!" One of the recruits yelled.

Carsen spoke up, "then who did?!" The recruit started to speak. "_Shut up! _No excuses! Everyone get ready in twenty seconds and meet me outside for sprints!"

* * *

The rest of the day was the worst day of my Shadows experience. Our commanders were fumed about the stunt; Commander Reg and Hayden swear that their recruits never left their sight, so our commanders went all out on us. We ran constantly, crawled through mud, and I have bruises covering my arms because we were yanked around so harshly. On top of that, we had to do sprints through breakfast and lunch; so we were exhausted and _starving_ by the end of the day.

Seth had collapsed earlier in the day. Knocked out cold, and had to be sent into the infirmary. Once he woke up, Chase sent Reg in there to talk to him. We could hear the yelling from the training room.

That night we were all lying in our bunks when Seth returned. He had tear-stained cheeks and was gripping a wound on his arm. Undoubtedly from Reg. No one spoke.

Just as I was slipping into a sleep—it wasn't easy, since my stomach was growling and ached of hunger—the door opened and slammed into the wall; slamming into the dent that was already there, made from the repeated slams.

"You're not done yet!" Chase boomed, and I didn't even have the energy to open my eyes. Someone pulled at my arm, and I squinted one eye open. It was Seth. He smirked at me.

"Rise and shine," he muttered; with humor in his tone. I couldn't help but smile, and find the energy to climb out of bed.

Midnight suicides. What a joy.

Most of the recruits either collapsed, threw up, or some other form of their bodies giving up on them. My nose started to bleed, and then I threw up.

I can't remember anything after that. I woke up in my bunk with the rest of the recruits, so that was a good sign. The next day our punishment continued, except we were allowed to eat; and it felt like a feast for champions.

By lunch, my head was _pounding. _Everyone at our table was groggy and grouchy.

Lawrence, from the right side of the compound, came over to our table and sat next to me. "Volkner," he started. His voice was calm, but his facial expression was an odd one. "I…Need to say…I'm sorry."

"About what?" Annoyance rang in my voice; unintentionally, but I didn't care.

"It was a group from our side that pulled that prank on your commanders. They wanted to sabotage you guys, since you're outranking us so much. I wasn't a part of it…But I should have told you…And I feel really bad."

"You _knew _about it and didn't tell me? That's pretty messed up, Lawrence."

"Yeah," Owen spoke up—eavesdropping, how typical—and continued: "We've been punished like nobody's business! We barely got any sleep last night and we weren't allowed to eat at all yesterday, all while being pushed passed all of our limits! We literally had to run until we couldn't stand last night. Until Chase pulled us to our feet and we collapsed under our own weight. And Seth," he wildly motioned to Seth, "has medical issues—he's been dying for the past twenty-four hours! And you couldn't even give us a heads-up?!"

Lawrence hung his head. "I'm sorry…There's nothing I could've done to stop it. They were so sneaky Commander Hayden and Reg didn't even notice."

"Well you could tell our commanders –"

Owen got cut off. "No," Lawrence's head shot up, "my roommates would kill me. They're not nice. They get into fights with one another all of the time. And who knows what Reg would do…You might have to deal with these punishments now, but we get physically punished every day. I thought you guys, the top rankers, could handle it." He stood up and stalked off.

"That was harsh. I thought we were the victims!"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Owen, stop getting emotional."

He sniffed, and his eyes watered. "I'm not getting emotional." He said through gritted teeth—holding back a sob.

"Okay Miss Emotional," he glared at me, but I continued: "Lawrence did the right thing. He just did it a few days too late. Can't get mad at the guy. He's one of the few that actually has a soul in this place." I pushed my empty plate away and sat up straight. "Maybe, we can sabotage them back…You know, a little revenge?" Owen smirked and nodded, but Seth sighed.

"And prove what?" Seth sounded weak, breathless and tired. "That wouldn't be a good idea. We're better than them. Plus, imagine getting caught sabotaging _Reg _and _Hayden…_Talk about having no souls."

"Yeah, I think Reg has a wormhole instead of a soul…Point made, Seth. However, I refuse to put up with this punishment for another day. Besides the fact they're punishing us for something we didn't do, they're kind of overreacting. I mean, I know they're trying to make the recruits understand that the commanders are commanders and crap, but seriously. I don't want to deal with it."

"So what are you going to do? Politely ask Commander Chase to stop punishing us?"

"Something like that."

"Again, I say that's a bad idea." Seth sighed when the commanders told us to go to the training room. "Let's just deal with it. Only a week until graduation, we can do this." He shot me a reassuring smile, but I looked away and nodded.

We entered into the training room and immediately noticed the five guys standing about. They were tall and full of muscle, and wore the commander's uniform. The only difference between the commander's uniform and everyone else's was the gold stripe that wrapped around the bicep on the shirt. Subtle, but everyone knew who was in charge only by bearing two stripes on their white tees.

"Recruits," Jeck, who I didn't even notice was present, stood in front of the crowd of newbies. "These commanders are from the different compounds of Sinnoh. Not all of you are going to live here in The Shadows. Most of you are going to be shipped off in a week to one of the other places. These commanders have chosen which people they want, and today you'll find out where, in fact, you'll be going." And then he added, with no enthusiasm: "It's all _very _exciting."

One-by-one the commanders called out a name from the piece of paper they were holding, and that person joined them in a group. I was called by the tall, dark-skinned commander. He was a commander for The Underground. _Where _that was, I didn't know.

It was exciting; the thought of graduating out of here and going somewhere _new. _For who-knows-how-long I've been in one dreadful place, falling into a daily routine that was exactly the same every single day. The same atmosphere and people every day…I didn't realize until then how much I longed for something new.

Then it was back to training: Knife throwing, combat training and then ending the day with some battling. After dinner, we were on our way upstairs when commanders Chase, Carsen and Days stopped us and led us outside for more punishment sprints.

"Run until you throw up your dinner!" Chase yelled. Some of the recruits started to run laps around the compound, but I approached Days who stood away from Chase and Carsen.

"Volkner?" He said it questionably. I wasn't quite sure what I was going to say, but I needed to get these punishments terminated.

"Commander," I began, "Look, we know that the commanders are the ones who get punished when their side of the compound sucks. We only have a week left. We know where we're going when we graduate. We have no real reason to continue training to our best abilities. However, we'll continue to kick-butt if you guys will just lay-off with the punishments."

"That sounds like a _threat, _are you threatening your commander?" There wasn't anger in his tone. In fact, he was seemingly amused.

"No, not at all…Negotiating, actually."

"Negotiating what? And why aren't you running, punk?" Chase and Carsen joined us.

"He said that if we don't stop punishing them for their little stunt, they're going to purposely start sucking and falling down in the ranks." Days explained.

"But if you do stop," I quickly added, "we'll continue being the best here."

The three commanders looked at each other. _It worked? I actually made them question their choice? _I began getting excited, especially when Carsen looked at me. "Fine. Done deal. I think you've learned your lesson…" He took a step closer to me. Carsen wasn't usually intimidating, but he got right in my face and I got chills. "If some other stunt gets pulled…I don't care what happens…_You're _getting the punishments first-hand, worse than you could _ever _imagine. And no negotiation will help you. Deal?"

I hesitated. "Deal." We shook hands, and then Carsen called all of the recruits back inside.

Back in the dorm room, they cheered for me once again.

* * *

Yet, I didn't deserve to be cheered for.

A few days later, extremely close to graduation day, we got an odd visit from Maroon that no one was expecting. Not only was his arrival unexpected, the fact that he was there to talk to _me _was the most unexpected.

Yes. The Champion's Advisor had made an unplanned visit all the way from the league to talk to _me. _

Shuddering, I feared the worst. I got bad vibes about this one-on-one meeting. _Why is he here? What could I have done? _

Carsen escorted me downstairs to a random door. He opened it with his key, and motioned for me to go in. "Do you—" I whispered, but he shook his head and shrugged. Sighing, I walked through the door. It was a surprisingly small room, done-up like some sort of office. An oak desk sat in the center, with some bookshelves around it and a fake window in the back—we were in a basement, so windows were nonexistent down here. Maroon sat on the other side of the desk, looking like he was going to interview me or expel me from school; which surprisingly never happened to me.

"Are you confused as to why we're here?" He said, in his light, mousy way, as I sat down.

"Yes, actually. What is this about?"

"There was an act of defiance in you, Volkner Parley." Hearing my full name was odd; and hearing it spoken so negatively pulled at my heart. _Parley. _This made me think of my dad and my family too much that I forgot to answer.

He raised his white, practically invisible against his pasty skin, eyebrows. "What act?" I answered.

"The act when you _negotiated _with your commanders, Mister Parley." That definitely brought my father to mind, especially because I had never been addressed as such before—_Mister Parley_. I shook my head—to rid the thoughts, not object to what Maroon was saying—before speaking again.

"So…Am I in trouble?" What I meant: _How horrible will my punishment be? _

"That's hard to say…" _How _that was hard to say, I'll never know. He continued: "I heard that your friend Seth is struggling. Starting today, in fact, he's slipped to the bottom of the ranks."

"What? What does that have to do with me? Don't—" He held up his hand.

"Don't get snippety with me now. Seth has spent more time in the infirmary than anyone else. His commanders are simply annoyed with him." He cleared his throat—even that sounded mousy and feminine—and then looked hard into my eyes, over his glasses. "That's all punishable. Usually by something a little more humane…But…This time, if I were you, I'd blame myself for whatever happens to poor, sickly Seth Nightly."

"Don't bring Seth into this! He never did anything wrong! Punish me instead, and—"

"Volkner Parley," He spoke harshly, cutting me off, "You have, probably, the most potential to go places in The Callousen. The Underground is more than excited to have you, because even though you're not a top ranker, you're easily one of the best here, and you'll quickly exceed all expectations. Being a commander is in your future. However, you saying these things…That is _not _how a guard of Lea should speak. Your quick, whiney words should never be heard. You have to be proud. Respectable. Understand?" I nodded, but inside I was becoming furious. "That being said, don't tell anyone what we spoke of here today." He stood, and motioned for me to do the same. "See your way out. And don't disrespect your authorities."

Maroon paused. "Lea doesn't appreciate that."

* * *

The wrenching guilt that I felt was nearly unbearable. After I had gone back to the training room from the meeting, Owen approached me, worried because commanders he had never seen took Seth away without an explanation.

That night, I lay in my bunk with a stomach ache curling with guilt. Owen had pleaded for me to tell him what had happened in the meeting, since he had suspicions that it had to do with Seth being taken away. He was right, but I couldn't tell him that. I would wave him off, and say "I'm not allowed to talk about the meeting, Owen." Eventually his pleading became annoying, and I started to avoid him. He was so worked up about Seth, he threw up after dinner.

The day before graduation, two days after Seth was sent away, he returned. I hadn't spoken to Owen since Seth left, but we put aside our differences to greet our friend.

However, it wasn't a pleasant greeting. Seth wore a shade of exhaustion under his eyes, bruises covering his arms, and worst of all: the many scars covering his back, where he was _whipped _by _Lea himself _for being unable to become a part of the Callousen.

We sat in the dining room with our plates of food; away from our other roommates, just the three of us. "It was horrid…" he began, "The flight there was awful. The commanders wouldn't speak to me, and they slapped me right in the face when I tried to say something. When we got there, they took me straight to Lea. He gave me this big plate of food, which I ate, as he explained to me why I was there…He told me that I had slipped down to the bottom of the ranks, and that I wouldn't have a chance to improve. He told me that I wasn't Callousen material, and for that I needed to be punished. He grabbed the tablecloth—with a horrible, mad, angry, _red _look in his eyes—and ripped it away from me, all of the nice tableware falling and crashing to the ground, all the food and drink spilling everywhere. I fell back in my seat in shock—I had never seen _anything _like the look on his face—" He grimaced, and looked terrified, "He pulled out a _whip_ of all things, and then next thing I knew some guard was pinning me down, tearing off my shirt, and Lea was whipping me."

I was mortified. My throat dried up with shock, I couldn't say anything even if I wanted to. Owen was gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckled were white. Seth wouldn't look up from his lap.

Seth sighed, and with a wavering voice, he said: "I can't work for The Callousen. Lea told me that if I can't graduate from The Shadows, I can't be a guard. But I can't go home, so I'm sentenced to work at the League. Where all the washout guards end up…I'll be a maid and a cook and treated with no respect…All of this training…All of this…_Misery_…And I end up being a maid."

"That's…" Owen started, but couldn't find the words to finish. Seth nodded, and then we heard Commander Days say something.

We looked up and saw that he was standing with a commander I didn't recognize. Seth swore under his breath and stood up from the table. "I…" His voice cracked, and his eyes watered.

The two of us just stared at him. We knew this would be the last time we would see him. This was it; the final goodbye. Our trio, the only thing that kept us sane over this eternity of training, was being broken up forever. All the nights of playing cards and all the meals filled with telling hilarious stories, all the times we encouraged and helped each other…That was all gone.

Oh, but what would I say? What _should _I say? My brain swirled with memories that I wanted to recap and words that I wanted to spill from my mouth and encouragement to say to my friend but my mouth felt sewed closed. Owen looked speechless, I'm sure I did too. Seth held back his tears and cleared his throat. "Thank you."

That was all he said, but that was all it took to make Owen put his face in his hands. My emotions were so confused, I was paralyzed. I watched Seth stride—an almost proud stride—toward the commanders.

He had changed so much since I had met him; almost unbelievably so. In the beginning, everything he did was awkward and in a scramble. Every step he took he wobbled. His arms and legs were so frail, I was convinced they would snap off after a long day of training. During sprints he would scramble around the compound, wheezing all the way, but he was the first one to cheer for everyone and give high-fives and smile. Even in the infirmary, he smiled; and through all of it, he was proud of himself and his fellow recruits, and he was proud of the work he would do as a guard.

But he would never live that life. He probably worked the hardest of anyone else in The Shadows, and he got the worst result.

As I watched him stride; his shoulders back, head up, muscle-toned arms and legs in tow; my heart was heavy. He approached the commanders. Days patted his shoulder, and gave him a farewell nod. I could see the sympathy written on his face. Seth nodded back, looking strong and courageous, and followed the other commander out. In my heart I knew he was a true guard.

"Goodbye…Seth…" I whispered, moments after I knew he was long gone.

"Gone," Owen muttered, and I looked at his red, wet face, "but never forgotten."

_Farewell, Guard Nightly. Gone but never forgotten. _


	11. Qualifications

_Chapter Ten: Qualification_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

We sat in silence. Seth was gone; he had just left, but it already felt darker…Lonelier…Smaller, somehow. One of the dining room lights flickered, and it caught my attention. The room was very large, and looked like a giant version cafeteria, but at the moment it was a dark, small room. Owen was turned away from me. I considered trying to talk to him...Comfort him; remind him that I was still here, and I was a friend. But I didn't. I made my way upstairs, and tried to sleep.

So many things rushed through my mind…I had no idea what lied ahead. The next day was graduation day. Rumors about what would happen flew around the dorm room:

"We have to catch Red Gyarados, and whoever catches it and tames it…Is the _only one _who passes Qualification, and all of us are fed to the Red Gyarados. That's how it stays red, because it feeds on the blood of the Unqualified." One of the recruits whispered.

"That's seriously the stupidest thing I've ever heard. What are you? Ten?" Another said.

"Well what's your idea, then?!"

"We probably get beaten, and whoever is alive at the end gets to stay."

"That's pretty messed up, Alan."

"And getting eaten by Red Gyarados isn't, Ashley?"

"_Ashes! _My name is Ashes! Not Ashley." He groaned, and then I heard the door open and close.

Another recruit spoke up: "Is his name actually Ashley?"

"Yup."

Was I ever that stupid of a recruit?

The thought of graduation day caused mixed feelings; I heard some recruits excited for the day, and were genuinely proud of themselves for making it this far—they were ready for any obstacle placed in front of them, and nothing would stand in their way. Others were anxious, and almost feared the thought. Graduation Day was a complete mystery, and here in The Shadows, that could be terrible.

Nevertheless, it was an accomplishment to make it this far. I happened to be proud. Proud that sometime tomorrow, I will have completed this netherworld of a place and will move on to the next step of being a guardsman; whatever that meant. Frankly, I was excited.

But still…The thought of Seth not being here…The thought of—

"Volkner, I need to talk." My eyes shot open. I turned in my bunk to face Owen, who looked tired and sweaty, like he ran here.

"What is it?"

"I just…I just…" He took a large breath, and looked me in the eyes. "I need to know what Maroon said to you the other day."

"What?" The word slipped out, and it made Owen's face tense up. I could tell he was getting angry, and he was suspicious. "I _told you _I _can't _tell you. Maroon specifically told me not to tell anyone of what we spoke of, so drop it, alright?"

"I can't just _drop it!_ This whole experience was not what I was expecting, what, months? Weeks? Days ago when I was approached by a suited man, who told me he could give me the world, that I would have a place of importance in Sinnoh, that I would be respected and needed and…Have a chance at something bigger than Eterna had to offer, bigger than myself…And instead I get thrown into _this place, _where—more times than you know!—I've hidden in the bathrooms with bloody noses, throwing up, and laying on the cold tile floor because I feel like my body is falling apart!" Tears were furiously rolling down his face. "I'm not respected here! I'm not needed here! I'm just a weird play-thing for the commanders, because they have nothing better to do with their useless lives!"

"Owen!" I snapped. "Calm down! You know all that isn't true! Yeah, this place _sucks,_ it's the worst…But you can't expect me to believe that you don't love the person you've become! You're strong, and fast, and agile! You can win fights easily, and you love it. This was only temporary. Tomorrow, we'll be graduates. We'll no longer be recruits, Owen; we'll be _Guards of Lea. _Pure Callousen."

"I…But I don't think that's what I want anymore."

Sighing, I said: "Seriously? Don't even _start. _You've worked so hard for this, and—"

"Shut up." I stopped talking. His voice was weird, I never heard him so angry. "You know who worked hard for this? Seth. Where is he? On his way to a place that's worse than this. He deserves the respect that guards apparently get, but he's being turned into a maid!" He sighed, and wiped his eyes. "Everything here has been awful…Except for you and Seth. Now I've lost Seth…And it's all your fault."

Hesitantly, I asked, "What are you talking about?" All the recruits in the dorm were staring at us with wide eyes.

"He was taken away while you were meeting with Maroon! Right after you magically got us out of trouble! Did you promise him Seth so we would stop getting punished?!"

"_What?!_ It was nothing like that, I swear! I would never do that! Seth is my friend, I tried to help him stay in the ranks just like you did! I didn't _trade _Seth, that's ridiculous."

"Then what happened? You had something to do with it, didn't you? Maroon only wanted to talk to you, Volkner."

"I didn't trade Seth." I growled, and leaned over the railing in the bunk bed; getting close to his face. "_Drop it." _

"You're just like the rest of them, aren't you? I thought you would be the good in the guards…But it looks like we lost the only good there was, no thanks to you."

It was hard to talk; there was a huge lump in my throat. "It wasn't like that…It wasn't my fault…I promise I'm not like that."

"Right, I almost forgot, you're _Promising Guy. _Deemed promising by Jeck himself…If that makes you proud, you need to rethink some things." He turned, and started to walk away. I clenched my fist, and resisted the urge to yell…But I couldn't resist any longer.

Loudly I swore, and then said: "You can't be real right now! Promising Guy was a stupid nickname I wanted no part of, _ever, _and if you were truly my friend you would know that. I was just trying to help us! We were all miserable, and I talked the commanders out of it, okay? Seth was at the bottom of the ranks _anyways, _and it was too late for him to try and recover."

"I just thought you were our friend." He muttered.

"Yeah, just like I thought _you _were my friend. I guess things change." Owen left the room with a slam of the door, and I threw myself back down in my bunk. I punched the thin mattress so hard it shook the bed.

_I knew I should never have befriended anyone here…This place wasn't the place for me to get close to people. I was wrong to spend time with them—I didn't want this! _I thought back to my first night here…Seth tried to talk to me, to be my friend, but I ignored him, and just wanted to adapt on my own. I had the right idea…But their friendship got the best of me.

Friendships are too hard in this world…That's enough, I'm done with friends. I came here for myself, and that's how it'll be.

* * *

My heart raced.

We were being escorted by all of our Commanders; all clean-cut and clean shaved, downstairs into a new room. It was huge, probably directly under the dining hall since it was the same size—but with shorter ceilings, of course. There were rows of chairs, all filled with the guards I recognize as the ones who lived permanently in The Shadows. There was a stage that we all filed onto and stood across the back. I wish there was some picture of us—all of us Newbies, about to become Guards. And then some of us will be Commanders, or any other superior. I wish I could see a picture of all of us on Day One, and compare it to now. I noticed that I was naturally standing straight and proud up here on this stage, when before I would have slouched. My guard uniform fit perfectly now, instead of loosely and partially hanging off of me. The list of things that has changed in me since Day One is long, and I couldn't be happier about that.

Six men in Commander Uniforms walked on the stage, and stood in the middle—facing towards us, and away from the crowd of guards. The one standing on the end was Commander Days himself. The man in the middle—a tall, large dark-skinned man—wore a hat with some sort of badge, and a suit jacket coordinating with his uniform. "Hello, Recruits." His voice rumbled, like an old man. His hair was nearly shaven, but I could see the glisten of white. "I am General Solomon, the General of The League. I've been the one and _only _General of The League for as long as The Callousen has been around. These Commanders alongside of me will soon be your new commanders. Commanders, introduce yourself." He stepped forward and turned around; facing the commanders.

The one on the far left started. "Commander Diamond from The Golden Compound." His voice was strong and manly, but it was a very unfortunate name. His hair was shiny white; much how I would expect a Golden City snob to be. Nonetheless, I wouldn't pick a fight with the man.

"Commander Duskin from The Windworks Compound." The Windworks sounded oddly familiar, but I couldn't place where that would be.

"Commander Marsh from The Swamp Compound." He had a drawly, southern Sinnoh accent that I recognized from family getaways to Pastoria.

"Commander Cory from The Underground Compound." My eyes lingered on him—The Underground. That was going to be my new compound. He wasn't as tall as the others, but he had that signature guardsman muscle—with even bigger biceps than Days.

"Commander Days from The Shadows Compound…But you all knew that."

General Solomon nodded, and turned back around. "You already know which compound you'll be assigned to, and where you'll be headed to tomorrow morning. Best of luck to you, and let the ceremony begin."

Champion Lea started onto the stage from the shadows, and the whole room applauded. Some of the seated guards even rose, giving him a standing ovation. Maroon and Jeck followed him, like right-hand-men—they all matched, actually. Black suits, with a red shirt and silver ties.

"Welcome," Lea started, "to another Guardsman Ceremony. These ceremonies are always very important to me…It's when I finally see these recruits become Callousen. I must admit, I was impressed by the improvement I've seen. Your commanders, Days, Carsen, Chase, Hayden, Reg…They're all equally impressed with you. Some of you, admittedly, shine a little bit brighter than the others…What can I say? That's the natural order of things. But each and every one of you was chosen, and has a place in this life. And soon, I will be _proud _to call each and every one of you a Guard of Lea." I got chills coursing through my arms. This was _real. _This was my _life,_ now. "You'll have a higher place. You'll be greatly respected and recognized as authority everywhere. You'll be the light, and the dark when needed. Your training hasn't been for nothing, and it doesn't stop here. You'll train for different jobs and positions, and you'll learn more than you ever have before. Gentlemen…Guards, your life starts here."

He stepped off of the stage, and Solomon took the center again. "You all need to understand what it means to be Callousen. As Head Commander Lea said, you'll have a higher place. You'll be respected. You'll be _recognized as the authority. _You all might not completely understand what that means yet…Let me tell you, it means that you're in control. You're _the _control. The Callousen is what keeps this region together! We keep things straight and orderly, without us doing our job…What would be of us?" The sincerity and passion in his tone was great, and slightly uncomfortable. "We help people. We keep rebels out of trouble. We protect those who need protection. We _are _the protection! That's why Champion Lea, the _leader of Sinnoh, _calls _us _to save the day. Calls _you, _to save the day." There was a pause. The room was silent. And then someone among the recruits on stage started clapping; then I was clapping, too. The whole room erupted in applause. And General Solomon nodded, and then motioned to the other commanders on the stage.

They began escorting us off, and down another new hallway. This time, we were leaned up against the wall; waiting to enter, one-by-one, into a room.

The line moved quickly; or maybe it just seemed like it, because of my sped-up heart. I don't know—but suddenly I was in a small room, face-to-face, alone with Champion Lea.

"Guard Volkner," he smiled a crooked smile, "repeat after me The Oath you must take, before you're an Official…"

_I, Volkner Parley, give my life to being a noble, respectable, loyal, and trustworthy Guardsman. I will respect the Head Commander, Champion Lea, always; and will not attempt to infiltrate his position by challenging The League at any time. I will know my place in Sinnoh, and I will be full of pride with my work that I accomplish. I'm proud to say, "I'm a Guard of Lea."_

"Swear it." Lea whispered, after I took The Oath. His eyes were clenched closed, like he was absorbing the words I was saying.

"I swear to Arceus—"

"_No." _The word rumbled in his chest. His eyes opened, and—if only for a moment—they were glowing. But I was convinced that it was my own imagination. "Don't swear to weak _Arceus. _Swear to _me." _

Breathing deeply, taking in this moment, there was something coursing through my veins…Overwhelming accomplishment, and excitement. I was excited for my life. There was so much lying ahead, I could _feel it. _So I said: "I swear to _you, _Champion Lea."

And my life has never been the same.

* * *

**Authors Note:** Happy New Year! And Merry (Late) Christmas. As a Late Christmas gift, you should leave a review. Heh, heh, heh. Yeah. Anyways, as always I hope everything is going well in your life, and thanks for reading!


	12. Dystopia

_Chapter Eleven: Dystopia_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

The place was swimming with guards of all kinds and very promiscuously dressed ladies. There was an overwhelming scent of smoke mixed with something else—something almost sour, and something almost medicine-like. There was a large line of people outside trying to get in, but I quickly learned that Callousen don't wait in any line. They parted instantaneously upon our arrival, and we filed in with no problem.

Before this, at the end of the ceremony, we met up in our new groups—mine being The Underground—and were quickly escorted outside by our new commanders. Two of the groups decided to make their recruits gather their things—whatever things they actually had of their own—and take off to their compounds that night, but the others decided to have an evening of celebration before leaving, so we hit the town of Veilstone.

It was the first time I was let out of the compound fence since I joined. Admittedly, I forgot that we were in Veilstone; I forgot that we were hidden beside a bustling city, full of life and people. How freeing it was, to walk through that gate and step into a town. It was late, and the city was lit-up with streetlights and porch lights. We were walking through the neighborhood that I vaguely recognized from the night of my arrival. There was a group of men standing in the middle of the street; smoking, laughing loudly, and a few of them sporting face tattoos. They saw us—obviously; it would be difficult not to notice a large group of guards treading towards you—and seemingly froze in our presence. One of the commanders, whoever was leading our pack, pushed through the middle of the group, causing one of them to drop their glass drink. His face tightened, and he glared at us, but did nothing. The others in the group turned their heads, or stared at the ground as we passed. In another circumstance, this gang wouldn't have dealt with people pushing past them like that; but we were the guards, the authorities.

The main street of Veilstone was wide and long, with lights from restaurants and stores pouring out onto the street. More people walked about; they would move out of our way as we walked, and usually they would turn their heads and wouldn't meet our eyes. There were some teenagers who even ducked into shops as we walked by.

Sunyshore people didn't act that way when the guards came into town. They were respectful and wary of their authority, but they didn't hide from them. Avoided, maybe, but only because we weren't used to them, and were uncomfortable. These people must be around the guards constantly, and yet they're still on-edge. I guess it makes sense, if I didn't spend days training with guards and then took an oath to join them, I doubt if I would get used to their presence. Seeing them in Sunyshore was off-setting, I recalled.

The Newbies around me started talking, catching my attention. "The Game Corner," I heard, "we're going to The Game Corner."

That's how I spent my night; at The Game Corner. Once I was inside, I froze and looked around. I had never been in a place like this; there were large tables with people packed around, laughing and yelling and cheering and watching as they played cards or threw dice. In the back there were rows of machines that lit up and spit coins out into a cup. In the center sat little side tables and L-shaped couches with no empty spaces—in fact, there were plenty of girls sitting in some guys laps. In the far corner, there was a large glass bar with multiple bartenders quickly taking orders. Someone pushed me, and I stumbled a few steps. It was fellow guards, directing me towards the bar.

"Don't just stand there, kid," one of them said as they passed.

But what was I supposed to do? I felt totally lost in this place. I was walking towards the bar, where my group had all found a seat or stood around, and I joined them. Jeck was seated at the bar, too; seemingly came here straight from the ceremony, not wasting any time. Taking a step towards him, I shook my head and stopped myself. It was so instinctive to do that; I had it in my mind that he knew all of the answers and I needed his advice anytime I could ask—but I wasn't in The Shadows anymore. I was an Official, I didn't need Jeck. I didn't need advice.

Lea's words rang in my ears: Your life starts here.

Turning away from Jeck and the bar, I looked right towards Owen. He stood a few steps away from his new group, The Golden Compound, and was staring right at me. His face was scribbled with sorrow. He started to take a step forward, and I quickly reacted by snapping back around and leaning against the bar. I waited for a few seconds, making sure that Owen still wasn't going to approach me, before I let out a big breath of air.

That caught the attention of the man leaning against the bar beside me: Commander Cory. "Volkner?" he asked, and I nodded. "You look pale, or sickly, or both. Aren't you supposed to be gorgeously tan? Being from Sunyshore and all?"

I let out a jagged breath of laughter. "I suppose so, Commander."

"Nervous?" He sounded amused.

Looking him in the eyes, I said, "Not at all. Don't worry. In fact, I'm _excited_."

The Commander nodded and smirked. One of waiters sat a drink and some food in front of him. "That will be—"

"Nothing, my good waiter."

"Excuse me?" The waiter was baffled, and started to explain that Cory had to pay for his food—until another waiter came over, apologizing and saying that this waiter was new here, and gave him another free drink.

"Guardsman pay for nothing," Commander Cory clarified, and slid his extra drink over to me, "especially not here, unless you're gambling, and not anywhere." I grabbed the tall glass and swished the odd-colored liquid around.

"That's quite the perk," I spoke, not knowing what else to say. He nodded at this, and took a large gulp of his drink. "So Commander, where _is _The Underground located? Will it take—"

He waved his hand at me, "Please, for the love of God, don't talk to me about work on my only night off for the year. You'll figure it all out tomorrow. Until then," he grinned at me, "drink up, it'll calm you down. If that doesn't help, come find me in a few hours and I'll give you something better." He laughed before finishing his drink. He took a bite of his cheese-covered fries, and then slid those over to me too. "These are delicious." He murmured as he walked away. I took a bite, and they were definitely delicious, and then I took a sip of the drink. It was an odd flavor, and there were hints of lum berry; including a small lum berry wedge on the rim of the glass. I had only had lum berry one time in my life, but the flavor was very distinct and harsh, I recognized it right away. Lum berry usually cured headaches, skin rashes, certain infections and a variety of other things—in both humans and Pokémon, so mixing it with alcohol…I could already feel the soothing effect coursing through my body. I _was _nervous, because after drinking about half of the glass, my nerves washed away and breathing felt so easy. I didn't even realize how ragged my breaths had been.

The night was a blur of flashing lights, throwing dice, guards pushing past civilians and a huge fight that had broken out among the new Callousen. I wasn't involved except for pulling people off of other people, but I think at some point I was slapped in the face, because I had a red mark on my cheek the next morning.

Waking up in my bunk again was surreal. At first I panicked and thought that graduating was a dream and I was back in this haze called The Shadows. But almost instantaneously I relaxed, recalling returning here with my group late in the night. The door opened, causing me to flinch. "Wake up, gather your stuff, grab breakfast." Commander Cory said, and then hastily left.

After showering, putting on my uniform, and attaching Staravia, Luxio and trusty Pikachu to me, I went down to the dining hall. Never had I seen the room so empty, I thought; the only people in the room were my fellow Underground Callousen. There were only five of us: Myself, two Fyn's, a tool bench, and another one of my roommates named Benson. He was a loner, never really made a friend here—smart guy—but he worked hard and was a good fighter.

"Promising Guy!" He exclaimed.

And he was the one who started that nickname.

"Promising Guy?" Commander Cory echoed, with a spoonful of eggs in his mouth.

"It's noth—"

Ben cut me off, "Jeck called Volkner promising on his first night, so everyone in our dorm always referred to him as Promising Guy." I just shook my head and sighed in annoyance. I sat beside a Fyn, who had become much stronger-looking then when I had first deemed him and his companions Fyn's, and starting eating. The tool bench, Kendal, sat quietly picking at his food. Usually the tool benches would sit together to eat, and would be loud and obnoxious.

"You're a quiet one," I remarked. He lifted his head to glare at me.

Commander Cory's face lit up. "Wow, that look was chilling. Do you two hate each other or something? Mortal enemies? Rivals?"

"_No. _I just don't know why he's talking to me." Kendal muttered. Cory looked at me.

Shrugging, I said: "I was just wondering why he wasn't being his normal tool self." The Fyn's laughed, and I smirked.

Kendal threw down his fork on his plate, making a loud clanging sound. The Fyn's halted their laughter. "I was supposed to get picked for the Golden Compound like the rest of my friends!"

Laughter ensued, not from the Fyn's, but from Commander Cory. "Is that what you're torn up about?" he paused to laugh again, "Listen carefully, the Golden Compound is the stupidest compound there is. At least in The Underground, there isn't anyone named Francis Diamond that you need to take orders from. The Golden Compound is an over-stuffed compound with way too many guards because they're afraid of not over-protecting The Golden Cities enough. Sooner or later, all the guards become just as spoiled and dumb as the Golden's themselves. In The Underground we actually work hard and honor Champion Lea, so _shut up _about the Golden Compound and your friends and eat your dang eggs." Kendal appeared speechless, and mashed his teeth together; possibly fighting the urge to snap at Cory.

Honestly, I almost applauded Commander Cory. Working with him won't be so bad.

* * *

The Underground was unsurprisingly located underground. What was surprising, however, was learning about underground passageways that lie beneath Sinnoh. The entrances to the passageways are hidden, Cory said, and even he doesn't know where all of the entrances are located—or even all of the underground routes. We entered a passage right outside of Veilstone. There was a locked hatch placed under foliage in the forest, once Cory got it open, we climbed the ladder down into it. There were plenty of lanterns and matches, we all took one and Cory led the way.

A while later, the passage had opened up, revealing some sort of underground railroad. A train-like thing sat on the tracks, and my jaw dropped. "An underground train?"

"Yup. It's almost a straight shot to Oreburgh from here with this. Amazing, isn't it? Won't take us very long at all."

He wasn't wrong. The ride was uneventful, but interesting. I had never been in something like a train before. Didn't even know there were trains in Sinnoh. It was a pretty small thing, and Cory conducted it through the passageways. Only a few hours later we were all the way across Sinnoh and under Oreburgh. "There's just one thing I don't understand…" I said, before we got off the train. Cory looked at me. "Why is this train such a secret? The people of Sinnoh would love these things! And the profit we would make from train tickets would be worth it, right?"

"It's no _secret, _but…It is a Golden City luxury. There are trains that go from Jubilife, but it's rare that someone wants to leave the Golden Cities. They're still pretty new, so they're just for us guards and the occasional Golden snob for now."

The Golden Cities was something I would never understand, and would never want to.

We exited the train, and started down yet another path. The passageway met right with the compound doors. The doors opened into a small room, with a camera on the ceiling staring at us. Another guard walked into the room to greet us.

"Show them to their rooms." Cory spoke, and the guard nodded and motioned for us to walk through the door.

The next room was filled with monitors; I could see Commander Cory standing in the room we were just in, a few pictures of hallways, and another underground railroad. He ushered us away, down a hallway, and up a flight of stairs; still not leading us aboveground. However many stories below the surface we were, I could only attempt to assume.

One thing I noticed about this compound compared to The Shadows: while it had endless hallways, doors upon doors with who-knows-what behind them, and multiple flights of stairs leading up and down deeper into the depth of the compound—it had smaller hallways and rooms than The Shadows. The Shadows had huge rooms, but less of them. And the hallways were broad, large enough for groups of Newbies to trek down them in shame. This place was maze-like. Even if you had a map of the intricate corridors and winding walkways you could still get lost.

I know this for a fact, because I did that on my first day.

"You're going to get lost." Ben said as he bit into a big Oran berry.

"No I won't." I muttered, and rolled my eyes. "The dining hall is right here," I pointed to the square marked _dining hall _on the map pinned to our new rooms' wall, "it's practically right around the corner. And exploring the new compound isn't a bad idea." I turned to face him. He was squinting at me as he chewed the berry. Kendal sat on the bed he claimed as his own behind him, and just shook his head at us. The other two sat quietly on the floor of our room, also eating Oran berries. The guard told us that this room could just be temporary; that we might have to change rooms depending on what jobs we get given, or if we have to switch roommates, or something else along those lines. This room was the room where they stuck the new kids.

Benson finished his berry, "I just don't see why you're even hungry. We have all these berries." He pointed to the bowl on the dresser.

"Not everything is about food. I'm going."

"I _guess _I'll go with you." Ben started to follow me out, and I almost let him. But I quickly shot him an icy look over my shoulder.

"That _wasn't _an invitation, Benson."

His face tightened, "Alright, alright," he held up his hands and took a step back. I rolled my eyes—again—and closed the door.

Needless to say, the dining hall wasn't right around the corner and I got lost. Somehow, I led myself right into an office filled with the Oreburgh commanders having a meeting.

It was intimidating walking into a room with only commanders. If I had done that in The Shadows, I would've been punished; thankfully I was never that stupid. Well, until now.

"Hey Volkner, lost?" Cory grinned and started to laugh. Was it the most obvious thing? My facial expression was probably giving it away. I didn't want to know.

Speechless, I looked around the room. Three commanders sat at desks, one of them being Cory, who still laughed, and the last commander stood straight at the head of the room—seemingly leading the meeting—staring at me with disapproving eyes.

Before I realized it, I was staring at her too. This was the first time I had seen a female guard _ever, _and it was peculiar. "Volkner?" she said, suddenly looking like she remembered me, although we never met. Her voice was strong and rang like a bell, the way a woman's voice does. "You're one of the new kids?" She wore the commander's uniform, the exact same as all the other commanders, but it fit her differently and it surprisingly looked feminine. Her dark blonde hair was in a tight knot at the back of her head, and she wore dark red lipstick that stuck out on her face. She turned towards me. She looked me hard in the face and said, "It's disrespectful not to answer your commanders, Volkner. I hope you know better." Intimidating, she was intimidating.

"Yes I am. And I'm sorry Commander," I spoke quickly, "I didn't know…" _That there were women in the Callousen. That this wasn't the dining hall. That I was so stupid. _I didn't continue.

She waited for me to say something else, but then gave up. "_Yes," _she was obviously annoyed, "I'm a lady, and I'm not the only one. I'm the only one in this compound, and I'm the only commander, but there are other female guards. I've been in the Callousen for years now, seven to be exact, I know the workings and how to run things _very well_ and I demand respect at all times."

"And that butt hot." Cory yelled, making the other commanders die of laughter.

The Commander didn't look at him, just rolled her eyes. "Especially from that one." She sighed, and slightly smiled. "Cory, go run a thousand laps or something. Sam," she looked at her fellow commander, "make sure he gets what he deserves." Sam nodded and grinned at Cory, who was laughing so hard he had to wipe a tear from his face, before they both left. Cory clapped my shoulder unnecessarily hard as he walked out.

That left me with these two commanders. "Commander Marla," she said, introducing herself. "And this is Commander Jayson. He's the only sane one around here." She smirked, and Jayson stood from his desk. He was older than the other commanders, and looked as if he hadn't smiled in years by the way his mouth was plastered into a deep frown.

"Commander Marla, Commander Jayson," I nodded at them, and took a step for the door.

"Hold it," Commander Marla said, "Why are you just wandering about? What brought you to the commander's office?"

"Well, I was originally looking for the dining hall, and I got lost." I laughed, hoping it would be played off and I wouldn't get in trouble.

She simply nodded. "You'll learn the compound as you go, but it would be preferred if you stay in your dorm with your roommates until that time. A guard will always escort you when needed. Tomorrow is the…Orientation, if you would, so just stay tight until then. I'll take you back." She walked past me and out the door, I quickly followed her. She walked rapidly down the hallways.

"Commander Marla," I said as I tried to keep up, "can you tell me what my job will be? Or at least what jobs there are?"

She laughed, "So many questions. Are you always like that around authority?"

That question made me stop, making her notice and stop too. "I think you're right, Commander. I am like that around authority."

"You took that seriously. I like it." She nodded and smiled. Before she continued walking, she said: "We haven't decided what your position will be. However, you'll probably be on patrol for the town or mines, guarding the fences, working in the control room or somewhere else inside the compound, or down with the trains." I nodded, and she turned to start walking again.

The trains intrigued me. I would have loved to see the engine, see how something so grand ran, learn the parts and how to repair and rebuild them. "Any way I can work with the trains?" I said, a bit sheepishly.

We turned a corner, and I recognized the door ahead as my dorm. "No promises." She said, and approached my door.

"Is that a girl?" We heard from the inside.

"Nah, it's probably just a feminine guy." I heard Ben say.

Commander Marla rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Just stay in until tomorrow. And stay out of trouble."

"Always." I smirked, and she gave me a look of disbelief before leaving. I entered my dorm, and hit Benson right in the face with the doorknob. He let out a yell, and I couldn't help but laugh. He stood up, rubbing the side of his head, and squinted at me.

"Do you secretly have a really, really girly voice that you talk to yourself with?" He asked.

"_No," _I gave him a look, "I do not. That was Commander Marla. She told us to stay in until tomorrow." Questions flew out of everyone's mouths, including Kendal's, but I just shook my head and laid down on my bed; reminding myself not to be friendly.

* * *

Adjusting to this new lifestyle wasn't as hard as I might have assumed. Orientation was simply a meeting with the commanders in the dining hall after breakfast. Commander Jayson gave a speech about obedience, successfully putting the fear of God in us, and then Commander Marla assigned us our positions. The two Fyn's, Felix and Harry, were both working with the trains; Ben got assigned to the control room, temporarily said Commander Sam; and Kendal and I were both chosen for patrol. Commander Marla proceeded by explaining to us how different things are in Oreburgh. She said that Champion Lea has set up many precautions—an electric fence encasing the town, limited food and supplies, laws and restrictions regarding the mines and mineworkers—all because they have attempted uprisings against Sinnoh, and it's not safe for anyone. Orebrugh is a mainly normal town, except for the mouthy people, so says Commander Marla.

Immediately we started to ask questions; I wasn't the only one who had never heard anything about Oreburgh, but she quickly shot us down. "It's not your place to know and understand." She spoke firmly. "Frankly, Guards of Lea shouldn't care about this matter. More so, they should be appalled about Oreburgh's rebellious actions, and do whatever it takes to be Callousen and inforce the law upon them."

"Also," Cory started, "it's against the rules to ask those questions, and is punishable." He smirked, and Marla confirmed. Nevertheless, we shut up.

It was the first time I was ever above ground in Oreburgh. The compound spit us just outside of a tall electric fence, with a pair of guards standing on the other side the gate. They let us in—Commander Jayson, myself, Kendal and a group of guards ready to patrol—and I got my first glimpse of the town.

Oreburgh wasn't anything like Sunyshore, that's for sure. Commander Jayson gave us a quick tour; the town was so _small._ The Underground had to be directly underneath the town, because it was as big if not bigger then it by itself. The houses looked like they were printed in grayscale, and were identical little shacks standing in lines next to each other throughout the town. At the ends of each row of tiny houses was a larger house, two-stories, looking like a mansion compared to the others, but wouldn't even be seen as a house in Shore. The town struck me as an orderly dystopia, because all the houses were lined in perfect order, pointing in the same direction, looking distastefully systematic; yet you knew that this settlement was a messed up place hidden away from the world.

The only color in the gray town was the obnoxiously orange gym and Center, which stuck out like sore thumbs so badly it was laughable. On the other side of the town was the mouth of the mines, we didn't go in, but from what I could see, it looked large. Someone mentioned something about every male in Oreburgh being assigned to mine duty, so I could only assume the amount of workers trying to reach the quota for the Golden Cities every day was huge.

Our group split up for patrols, and I ended up with Commander Jayson and another random guard. However, I didn't understand why this was necessary, because the town was seemingly abandoned. Not a soul roamed the streets. We walked our route, looping around a street of houses, for an hour before seeing someone. A young girl, probably around twelve, being heaved away by two beefy guards. The scene was almost in slow motion: They walked past, each guard lifting her up by an arm so she dangled, barely touching the ground, and having to either hold herself above the ground or let her feet scrape against it. She wasn't kicking or screaming, like a typical twelve year old would assumingly be doing. In fact, she looked aged and mature the closer she got. Simply because of the bold look of courage painted on her face. Her dark eyes flicked up to mine, and we locked gazes as she was carried past. I almost asked what was happening to her, but I didn't want to know truthfully.

"Filthy life here," the guard patrolling with me said, "they even teach their children to be filthy. We catch those little hooligans getting into more trouble than anyone else." He shook his head disgustingly, and then he and Jayson got into a heated conversation about the scumbags of Oreburgh. They told me stories of how awful they were, and admittedly, Oreburgh citizens didn't seem like the best people around.

But that little girl's look still haunts me, and I think it always will.

* * *

The patrol routes switched between the guards every few days, so eventually I had patrolled the whole town, at all different times. At lunch, we were to be at the mouth of the mines, watching all the miners go to their homes for lunch break. The groups of men would slump past, absolutely beaten from the hard work. Most of the townsfolk simply avoided and ignored us—never meeting our eyes. The women would turn, letting their hair feather across their faces, not letting us see. At first it was a weird feeling; being totally rejected, in a way. Others would get brave enough to snarl at us, or even mutter something under their breath. Of course that leads to punishment.

Punishments varied. If they're not caught breaking the law, just disrespecting us, we don't have to take them to a commander. Some of the guards I worked with would just slap them and move on; others would let it slide, and then later knock on their door and demand some kind of tax or fee and pocket whatever little bit of money they spared. Other guards just threaten them, and that usually made them behave. That was my strategy.

Until one day, a teenage boy, probably my age, was on his way to the mines; but he was very late, which was unusual. I was patrolling by myself, so I approached him. "Get out of my way, nasty Lea slave." He said, and pushed me.

"Whoa now," I said, and he turned and looked at me.

He clenched his jaw, "What?"

"That's no way to speak to authority," I got close to him; right in his face, and smirked. "I'm no Lea slave, but if you keep talking like that, you'll be." I raised my eyebrows playfully sarcastic at him.

He scoffed, and laughed humorlessly, "Please. I'm already a Lea slave. Unlike you, I can't get out. This is my life! Wanna threaten me? Hurt me? _Kill _me? Please just do it and let me continue on with my day."

Not knowing how to respond, I said, "Maybe I will. But not now. I'll—"

"Coward." He spit, and turned away.

_Can't let him get away. _I went after him. _I don't want to hurt him. _I reached for him. _I don't know what to do. _I had to do my job. _I can't let him disrespect the Callousen. _

Grabbing his shoulders, I spun him around. He wobbled, and I punched him in the jaw, making him lose balance completely and fall to the ground. He moaned and grabbed his face. He swore at me; blood bubbling out of his mouth as he did. I kicked his legs, and he said no more.

He made a whimpering noise, and I gasped. Quickly I turned away, and jogged as fast as I could as far away as I could. I recalled an alleyway behind the gym, and went there to hide. "What have I done?!" I whispered to myself. I leaned against the gym walls and grabbed my hair. "Why did I do that?!" I began to pull, hoping the pain would wash away these crashing emotions.

"Uhh, you alright?" Instantaneously the voice was vaguely familiar. I stood upright, and looked towards the voice. The person stepped closer and entered the shadows of the alley. Yet I could see the outline of his features, recognizing him right away.

"…Flint?"

* * *

**Authors Note:** This chapter has been edited since it's been posted! I actually ended up eliminating quite a few things - trying to make this chapter more clear and easy to read. However, it's still not perfect, so any flaw you see, please let me know. Clarity and description is mostly what I edited this chapter for. Trying to not over-describe, especially things that Volkner wouldn't even notice, and progress my sentences and paragraphs in a more clear way. I'm still just trying to practice this and get it down, so feedback is very important.

Thank you for reading!


	13. Pyromaniac

_Chapter Twelve: Pyromaniac_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

Everything blurred.

My head felt light and heavy at the same time. Squinting, I tried to see Flint, but he was a smudge of black among black in my vision. So many emotions caved in at once. Only a few of them I could decipher: Embarrassment—for what? Being caught near a breakdown?—sadness, guilt, and awkwardness. Especially awkward when he quickly lunged forward and caught me from falling. He leaned me against the gym wall, which felt cool and refreshing against my skin.

This gave me a clear enough mind to think; to process what, exactly, just happened.

Flint casually shows up, after I punch a miner in the face and _kick him while he's down, _and then proceed to hide in an alley to have a meltdown about it. Flint, my childhood enemy turned best friend, most likely one of the last people I would want to see me like _this, _just walks into my life again_. _

"Yo! Volk! Answer me!" I hear him say, before realizing my eyes were closed. I blink, seeing almost clearly, and stare at him. "Yeah, I know," he said nervously, "I'm a looker." He tried a smirk.

Frowning, I yelled: "You left!"

"Wha—?!" He recoiled and moved his palms from my shoulders; I hadn't realized they were there, and he was that uncomfortably close to me.

"You disappeared off the face of the planet, Flint!" I stood up and got in his face, "There were search parties! Signs everywhere! Your family was devastated! Your friends were devastated! _I _was devastated!" I huffed, and crossed my arms over my chest. "What happened to PKF? Poach Killers Forever?"

Flint's jaw was practically touching the ground. We look at each other for a few moments, in complete silence, until he spoke. "Yo…Volk…I fell off the face of planet? Yeah, dude, well, doesn't that mean you did too?" He grabbed his shirt and pinched the fabric, making my attention go to the guard uniform he was wearing.

My body froze, and I didn't know what to say. "You're Callousen?" He nodded. "And that's why you left?"

He nodded again, "I sent a letter to my parents as soon as I got out of The Shadows, did…" he continued cautiously, "did they get it?"

Nodding, I said, "They got it. They didn't tell me what it said, but they _did _say that they couldn't understand what you were talking about, and didn't know why you had to leave without a goodbye."

"Yeah, well, how am I supposed to explain all of this?" He scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously. I shrugged, and didn't reply. He looked away, searching for something to say. "This is officially totally weird."

While laughing, I shook my head and face-palmed, "You're right. Let's forget about this." I looked at him, "It's good to see you Buddy."

He agreed, and said: "Sorry I broke up PKF. By the way, I thought we agreed on The Super-Hot Killers of Poachers led by Flint the Fiery Master?"

"Nope," I was unamused, but he was too busy snickering at himself to notice.

"I was one charming kid, wasn't I?" He laughed.

Already I could tell that Flint was still very similar to how I remembered him. Young Flint was a feisty, mouthy, troublemaker who thought he was in a league all of his own. He had the self-confidence of a contest Pokémon, and, for a while, the battling skills to match. In trainer school, our first battle against each other, his Chimchar beat my Pikachu.

From then on, it was constant battles between us; constantly trying to be the best in our class. We were very well matched, and our battles were intense and down to the last health points for both of us. We were rivals, always mad that we couldn't beat each other every time.

One day, we had met up in the woods to battle secretly after school. Our battle had just begun when we had a run-in with a poacher. We courageously teamed up to battle him, getting defeated pretty badly in the process; but because of that battle became great friends. Our rivalry to be the best didn't cease, of course; but Flint and I were somewhat inseparable. Until after he graduated, and I was still in school, he disappeared, leaving all of us worried and confused. Now that I know what had happened…I don't know if I feel sorry for him, anymore.

We had sat on the dirt ground in the alley between the gym and a house, talking briefly about nothing important. We mostly made comments about the Underground Compound, and I told him the story about getting lost and walking into that meeting.

He pulled something out of his pocket and flipped open the top of it. He pulled out a white, long, thing; sticking it between his lips. "Smoke?" He offered, but I shook my head. He struck a match and lit his cigarette. "You know," he said in-between puffs, "me, you, Trifler and Rayne…We were quite the group, weren't we?"

It never occurred to me that we were a _group. _Always, I had thought of me and Rayne together, accompanied sometimes by Flint and Trifler. Flint had come before Rayne in my life, but Rayne had always outranked him. Flint was simply in second place. And frankly, the four of us as a whole was never that close; it was Rayne or Flint and I. Trifler was just sort of there, Flint had randomly taken him under his friendship wing.

But I nodded, not wanting to get into that debate with Flint right then.

It hit abruptly that Flint didn't know about Rayne's tragedy. The thought of telling him leaped into my mind, but as I opened my mouth…I couldn't.

Rayne's name hadn't appeared in my mind for so long; more so, I hadn't spoken her name since…

"_Is that it? Is that all you're going to say?"_ I had said to her, _"Rayne, are you ever going to talk to me again?"_

Why did I remember that so vividly? Our final conversation…It was just me being a jerk, trying to force her into telling me things she didn't want to. Why does that have to be my last memories of her? And who knows what her final thoughts about me were…I could only imagine.

When was the last time I had thought about her? And why did I feel guilty about not being able to remember?

"I'm sorry about her." Flint said, forcing me back to our conversation. He flicked the bud of his cigarette away. He cleared his throat and continued, "Rayne, about Rayne. I'm sorry. Must've been hard for you." Hearing her name again made me flinch uncontrollably. He noticed, but said no more.

"How'd you hear about it?" I tried to keep a strong voice, and not let my emotions get to me.

Shrugging, he said: "Gossip travels through the guardsman. Something like a young girl getting murdered, while there are guards present in the town, doesn't go un-gossiped about. I put the information together and figured out it was her."

"I see…It's alright, by the way." I looked at him, "That feels like an eternity ago. I'm in a whole new life now."

He surprised me by grinning, "I know, right?!" He jumped up, "Let's stop reminiscing about our old lives, Bro, and let's go do something fun and mildly dangerous!"

Nothing fun yet mildly dangerous took place. After dinner, the two of us walked aimlessly around the compound, sharing stories and catching up. Who knew not seeing someone in so long would lead to endless conversations?

Flint explained more about The Underground. He told me that they have weightlifting competitions on a regular basis, but unlike The Shadows, there aren't many competitive features about the Callousen life. The Shadows make The Callousen seem like endless punishments and always striving to be better, he said, and even though that can be true in some scenarios, if you stay out of the way like he does, you'll live a pretty laidback life. So when I asked him what he usually does with him time, he answered: "Just hang out. Go with the flow. See what everyone's getting into." He held a smirk, but had little interest in his voice. He showed me the training and combat rooms, they were very similar to The Shadows except smaller. We tossed knives together, he was a natural, and I could barely hit the target. He laughed at my attempts until we decided to leave.

He took me aboveground to the fence, introducing me to some of the guards he worked with there, and then continuing towards the underground train. The station was dark at this time; dimly lit by large lamps, seemingly battery powered. A train sat on the tracks, probably done with its travels for the day. No one else was down there, except for my roommates Felix and Harry. They stood around two podiums filled with bottoms and dials and things of the like, frantically pressing things and unplugging things from the sides. "What are we going to do?!" Felix murmured, and then jumped when he saw us. "Oh, it's just you," he says, eyes on me.

Immediately I was concerned, and approached them. "What's going on?" I spoke, trying to figure out the situation.

"Something happened! The train's down, and we don't know why." Harry started to bite his nails. "And," he said with his finger in his mouth, "the other guards will be back any minute! They trusted us alone, and _this _happened!"

"Well, calm down, let me look," they stepped back, allowing me to look at the control panels. I began fiddling with it—what else was I going to do?—and took off the face of the panel. Underneath held tangling, colorful wires. Easily I could tell where they were all connected. Seemingly, they were all connected fine, and there wasn't a problem. My hands fluttered through the wires as gently as butterflies. The familiarity of working with electronics came back to me gradually, and as I was pulling on some of the wires, I came to a conclusion about what was wrong, and I had an idea. "Harry, Felix," they looked at me with young, scared eyes, "I'm going to do something risky, but I can guarantee it'll work…Well, _almost _guarantee."

"That sounds promising," Flint muttered; sarcasm laced in his words.

"Well he _is _Promising Guy," Felix said, and Harry nodded.

Flint perked up, "Wait, what?!" He snickered.

"No time for that!" I snapped, and the Fyn-like boys laughed. They told me to do whatever and time was running out, so I grabbed the wire cutters from the toolbox on the floor and snipped a wire. I could see Harry flinch beside me. After snipping another, making him flinch again, I picked up some electrical tape and connected the two, then finally put the face back on.

Flint scoffed, and started talking. "That's so ghetto, that'll—"

The control panel blinked alive, and Harry quickly moved me out of the way to take his place at the podium. He tapped a few buttons and the train's headlight came on, the inside abruptly lighting up. He and Felix made noises of relief, and their bodies relaxed. "Thanks, Volkner," one of them said. I grinned and placed my hands on each of their heads.

"Anytime, my sons," I said, in a deep voice. They laughed, and I began messing up their swooshing hairdos.

"Okay now get lost before one of the guards comes back," said Felix as he swatted away my hand. Nodding, I turned to leave, following Flint out.

"So you seem pretty close with those two," Flint mentioned as we got outside.

"What?" That struck me, suddenly, and oddly. "I don't think so."

He gave me an amused look as he imitated me: "_'Anytime, my sons,' _do you just say that to anybody?" He shrugged to himself, "Whatever. They make me think of Buck, or at least Buck in a couple of years."

"They make me think of Fyn," I say it casually; as he did, but a part of me twinges, hating that this conversation was becoming personal. Although, when did the mention of my family become a personal thing? Shaking my head, I continued: "It's weird, I guess today my brotherly instincts came over me," I chuckle before waving a hand at Flint. "When did you become an over-thinker anyways?"

"Me?" He pointed to himself and made a—very sarcastic—face, "Oh I've always been a genius. Like, psychology and crap. But you were just too dim and young to notice before. Some call it, _higher intelligence," _he made a big motion with his arms, and I sneered and quickly disagreed with that statement.

"Just think about how you earned the name _Flint! _It's because you were a crazy pyromaniac who caught things on _fire _as a kid!"

"Yeah, well," he laughed, and gave up. "Yo, Promising Guy?" He raised a brow at me and snorted.

"Just don't—" I sighed, defeated, "Yeah…Promising Guy."

* * *

Me and my roommates stood around, slightly confused as to what was going on. "But, it's dark," said I.

"Perfect," Commander Cory said dismissively, "we do our flying at night. So you're going to learn how to fly at night." We all released our Staravia's. They were shaky and uncomfortable; probably from being kept in a Pokéball for such a long time.

They look bigger than I remember. They were big enough to ride comfortably now. Or was it just my imagination, thinking that they were smaller before? Nonetheless, I tried mounting the large bird, which wasn't easy. They had no trust for us, so trying to calm them was nearly impossible. However, eventually we succeeded, and our first lesson was underway.

We learned how to steer them by tugging gently on their thick neck feathers. They listened—diligently—and we had a successful flight. The aerial view of the night was magnificent, and the air was chilling as it whipped by me; my skin prickling at the cold, giving me a new stimulating sense. Cory sped past me, him and his Staraptor looking like one fantastic flying being as they shot through the sky, turning and twirling expertly.

That must be the best part, being one with your Pokémon. I hardly considered this Staravia to be mine, because he was simply handed to me. Now that I thought of it, I had never even battled with Luxio, my other Pokémon. He had never been out of his Pokéball.

How my life's perspective had changed. I used to care for Pikachu like the companion he was, and if I would have gotten new Pokémon, I would have battled with them until I knew them like the back of my hand. Now, not so much; that would have to change.

I looked around for my fellow flyers. My roommates were far behind, not daring to be as adventurous as myself, and Cory was way ahead of me; I could see the giant wings of Staraptor flapping in the moonlight. We could catch up to then, though, I had faith in it. "Staravia," I addressed my Pokémon, he turned his head to look at me, and I said: "Do you trust me enough to catch up with them?" I pointed to Cory. He looked, proving the amount of intelligence I assumed he had, and then shot forward, nearly knocking me off in the process. "Whoa!" I leaned down and gripped the bird tighter. We flew like a bullet released from its chamber. The air was pulling at my hair like grasping hands, and I was too shocked or scared, I couldn't distinguish which, to look up. Staravia erupted in birdcalls, and I hesitantly raised my head. My eyes brimmed with tears as they adjusted to the high speed air. I saw the outline of Staraptor get closer and closer, until we were passing him and Cory, who held on tightly to the large bird's back.

"Volkner!" The word scrambled out of his mouth in a surprised yell.

"See you, Commander!" I called, and laughed. Staravia cawed delightedly, and I patted the noble birds head. _This is the start of a good partnership, _I thought, and then proceeded to loop around and head back towards the compound.

* * *

Commander Marla spun around, a shocked look slowly crossing her face. "_You _messed with the control panel?" She spoke sternly to Harry. He looked scared, and speechless. He tried to speak, but only parts of words were coming out. But he nodded, and that was enough for Marla to grab him and start pulling him out of the dining room. Standing up, I leapt out of my seat and sprinted towards them, knowing I couldn't let her take him. She stopped dead in her tracks and eyed me as I approached. "Volkner, this doesn't concern you," she said, although she seemingly wanted to hear what I had to say.

"_Yes, _it does, Commander. I'm the one who rigged the panel yesterday, not him."

"_What?" _She looked at Harry, "Is this true?" He nodded, his blue eyes never meeting her gaze. She released him, but quickly said, "Don't move." She turned her attention to me. "This needs to be further addressed. Commanders," she called, "meeting, _now." _She grasped my arm, tightly, and pointed at Harry, "Let's go," she demanded, and hauled me away, with Harry in tow.

This is just where I wanted to be. In the firm hold of a commander, being taken away to have my life further discussed in a meeting, with guards surrounding me as we walk. How _promising._

* * *

**_Authors Note:  
_**

A few PSA's: I edited the crap out of the last chapter, Dystopia, after reading what DeathGoblin and Espeon had to say about that. Hopefully it's a lot better now. I'll do the same with this chapter. I can't help but feel like it's so rough and this story is getting pushed in the wrong direction, one that wasn't my intention. BUT we're still progressing, and there's a lot left.

Some of you may have noticed I posted a new story! I got a ton of writing energy and wrote a one-shot, and tons of ideas for additions to it. Go show it some love! I'm happy with how it came out, and I'm excited to add more little one-shots soon. There are going to be lots of different ideas for it and lots of little storylines that, in one way or another, tie into my current or future stories, even in the smallest way. I'm challenging myself as a writer with the things I have planned for it, and it's a lot of fun to write and brainstorm about. I'm proud of it, what can I say? Go read it!

Thanks for reading!


	14. Lighthearted

_Chapter Thirteen: Lighthearted_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

Harry gave me a wary look. He was sitting across from me at the little table in the commander's office, one that must have only been used for interrogations. He was twitchy, and flinched every time Marla started to speak to him. She was being successfully stern and intimidating; she kept raising her drawn-on dark eyebrows inquisitively and a bit unbelievably at everything Harry said, making him stutter and say "I mean…That's not what I meant!" a lot. In a weird, twisted way, she was enjoying interrogating him and watching him flinch under her spell of intimidation.

Commander Jayson was seemingly taking notes, but was otherwise uninvolved. Cory was uninterested in the whole thing and stood beside Marla, not trying to even pretend to pay attention. Commander Sam was pacing silently around the room, apparently upset about the whole thing. Cory rolled his eyes at him.

"Commander Marla…" Harry cleared his voice, and his eyes watered, "It really wasn't anyone's _fault, _I don't think." His voice wavered, like Fyn's did whenever he got the courage to speak up to Perry when he was being yelled at by him. "I mean…Felix and I were left _alone _and then the train just shut off! It felt like…Sabotage! And Volkner just came down, saw us in a panic, and did what he could and it worked!"

She made a noise of disbelief and raised her perfectly shaped brows. She paused, waiting for him to say something in a stuttering panic, but he looked her in the face and said nothing more. "You think it was _sabotage?" _Her voice was harsh, he flinched.

"Well, not really…But in the moment, Felix made that comment," said Harry.

Sam scoffed and made a gesture with his hands, "There is no sabotaging that system! It's perfect and that's the first time it's ever malfunctioned! And you shouldn't have messed with it. I knew putting you two on train duty was a mistake, we should have—"

"Okay!" All eyes were suddenly on me, including Cory's. I smashed my lips together, regretting blurting that word out; but I couldn't listen to Sam drill in on Harry like that. I knew I had to say something. I looked over at Sam, who had rage written all over his face and flaming eyes. "Okay…" I repeated, a bit more gently, "Harry and Felix do a great job with the trains, but that's unimportant," I waved myself off and continued: "Your little rig _was not perfect; _there was faulty wiring that didn't even need to be there in the first place. If anything, what I did made it stronger and less hazardous."

"That isn't true!" Commander Sam yelled, and threw his hands up in the air. I heard Cory muffle a laugh.

"Sam, calm down," he said, not hiding his laughter this time. Sam scoffed again, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at Marla.

She turned her attention from Harry—who finally relaxed in his seat—to me. "Volkner," I resisted the urge to flinch, "Even though what you did didn't do any damage to the train, you did it without permission. What were you thinking? It seems like you know better."

"Commander Marla, I guess I wasn't thinking. You're right, I know better." Shrugging, I said: "It was as Harry said, I saw them in a panic and then I was helping them. I didn't think about it. The only thing I thought about was saving them from punishment."

Something crossed her face, and Cory was the one raising his eyebrows. Not necessarily questionably, but out of astonishment. "I see," was all she said. "Harry can go. Jayson, would you take him back to his room?" Commander Jayson nodded, and they left, with Sam following them out.

"Sam is a little sensitive to…Everything," Cory explained. "Marla, chill _out," _he said, his tone gentle, and placed a hand on the small of her back. She was rigid and sitting straight as a board on her chair. She sighed, and shook her head, like what he said was pointless. It probably was. "No big deal," Cory added, and slid his arm around her. The action made me a bit uncomfortable, since it was just us in the room, but then someone opened the door, and Cory quickly moved.

It was a guard I hadn't met. "Commander Sam told me to tell you that he got word electronically from Champion Lea," he had their attention. "It said that he wants this compound and the other selected compound to sparingly give at least five guards, and he doesn't want any commanders leaving from this compound, leaving this rebellious town, to accompany Golden City scientist to Snowpoint for some research. They'll be expected to leave in a few days, with more information to come."

"_We're _one of the selected compounds?!" Marla asked excitedly. Her face lit up, and she wasn't holding back her enthusiasm.

"Yes ma'am. They don't want to send any from the Golden Compound, they're too busy, so they selected us and The Swamp Compound." The guard inched for the door.

"Alright then!" Marla grinned. "You can go now," the guard nodded, relieved, and left. She looked up at Cory, "who are we going to send?!" She was now on her feet, pacing the room, grin planted on her face. I couldn't help but be amused at her childish glee over something that only she could be excited about.

"I don't know," Cory said, as he took her seat and watched her. "There are plenty of guards here. Picking at random—"

"No," she objected quickly, "that's ridiculous. There has to be some thought behind it. We can't send commanders, so whoever we send has to be responsible enough to be trusted to fly to Snowpoint."

"Flying there? At this time of the year?"

"Well, we can't expect them to hike up Coronet. They have to make the flight. It won't be terribly snowy."

"Maybe not in a few days, but whenever they'll be coming _back _is the real issue," Cory spoke.

"Then we have to send someone responsible enough to make decisions like that and who can handle situations like that. Brian and Thane, from patrol, they're good candidates," said Marla, her pacing picking up. Cory nodded. "Tim from the control room is a good one. He does a lot around here and a lot with the new guards." I recognized the name.

"Will is a good one," Cory added, and Marla stopped to glare at him. He was holding back a grin so badly his face turned red.

"Hilarious," she was unamused, and Cory busted out in laughter. I didn't know a Will, but I assumed he wouldn't be the best choice. "You could try taking me _seriously _every once in a while," she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look, and then looked at me—for the first time in a while. "Volkner takes me seriously," she said, mostly to herself since Cory was still cracking up, "maybe…" She paused, and Cory paused, and they both examined me.

"What?" I said, but I knew what was happening. I didn't like it.

Cory grinned at me and shook his head, "The look of complete terror on his face makes me against this."

"It doesn't scare me," Marla mused. She smirked. "He'd do a great job if we sent him. I like him."

"_Well,_ he _did _just get in trouble for doing something without permission," Cory chuckled. "Probably shouldn't reward that by sending him on a secret mission with Golden scientists."

"Commanders, stop talking about me like I'm not even here," I said. They looked at me for a moment, and then Marla looked at Cory again.

"He's smart enough to know that that wasn't a big deal. If anything, it was just to appease Sam, and make him feel like some sort of justice was being served for his control panels being messed with. And it was to show his fellow guardsmen that it's a bad idea to mess with things without permission." She pointed at me, "But seriously, bad idea to mess with things without permission," and then focused back on Cory.

He laughed and shook his head at her, "Whatever you say." He smiled, probably the most genuine smile I've seen from him, and then said: "I'm cool with sending Volkner. We all know he's the second best flyer in this room." He looked at me.

"Whoa, _second best? _I was whooping you—"

"So it's settled?" Marla cut me off, and acted like I wasn't in the room again.

Cory nodded, "Volkner's the fourth guard. We just need one more."

"Wait, wait, wait!" I finally got both of their attentions. "What if I don't want to go to Snowpoint and accompany some scientists? I was just getting used to things here!"

"You want to go." Cory said.

"What? No I don't!"

"Volkner, you're a Guard of Lea, and Lea needs you. We both agree that you should go, and that means you should go." Marla said.

"That logic is weird, first of all, second of all…I…" I let out an annoyed breath, not knowing what else to say. There were so many thoughts hurdling through my mind all at once.

Marla approached me and put a hand on my shoulder. She looked me right in the eyes and said: "If you're certain you don't want to go, I suppose we won't make you…But…We're going to make you."

"Again with the logic!" I yelled, and Cory laughed behind her.

"Volkner," she spoke sternly, and I was listening, "You owe me. I'm saving you from punishment you deserve. If Commander Jayson had any say, you would be in the weight room being pushed to your limits all night. But I have the say, and I'm saving you, and I want you to go to Snowpoint."

"I really hate the fact that I take you seriously, Commander Marla," said I, and she actually laughed.

"And you're honest," she added, and chuckled again. "So you'll do it, great!" She smiled, and I sighed.

"Yeah, I'll do it."

"Sweet, we've got a taker," Cory said, unenthusiastically, and stood up to join Marla. "Who will be guard number five?"

"Flint," I said, and they looked at me.

Cory sneered, "Yeah, right. All he does is _pretend_ to guard the fences, and then steal my cigarettes."

Grinning, I added: "Send him to Snowpoint, and he won't have the chance to steal your cigarettes."

He stopped, considering. Now Marla was the one who looked amused. "Looks like we have our guardsmen going to Snowpoint," he said.

"Alright then," Marla didn't complain, "seems like a good grouping."

"You could almost say…" Cory looked at me, and I was already glaring at him, "that it's one _promising _group." I did nothing but glare, and he snickered.

"Yes, it is," Commander Marla spoke, clearly confused by the whole thing. "We'll have to get our ducks in a row pretty quickly. Volkner, what will you need for the trip?"

Before I could answer, Cory was answering for me: "He's going to need warm clothes, sleeping bag, food, water, supplies—the whole nine. All of them will. And of course smokes for Flint, the kind that's not stolen from my pocket while I'm walking down the hallway—_How does he do it!" _He threw his hands up in complete bafflement, and I laughed. "No laughing matter!" He scolded me, but I continued. "Dang it! Marla, he doesn't take _me seriously_."

She waved him off while she wrote down necessities. "Don't worry, no one does." His mouth opened and he gave her a look, and then she couldn't stop laughing, and then I couldn't stop laughing.

Weird, I didn't think the Callousen could be this lighthearted; I guess they're not as bad as I've thought.

* * *

Telling Flint we would be going to Snowpoint was like telling a child we were going to the toy store. He practically bounded off the walls with excitement, and I couldn't understand why he, who seemingly loved his routine of skipping work and going with the flow, was so enthused until he said that he was _finally _getting to leave The Underground.

"I went straight from The Shadows to The Underground, and I've been stuck here for a _year. _You never leave!" Flint said.

"Well now we're leaving, and apparently it's a big deal."

"Yo! This _is _a big deal! We'll be totally respected by these science guys, 'cause they know we're Guards of Lea and sent by Lea and whatever, and everyone in Snowpoint will be amazed by our presence. It's a big deal. And imagine what it'll be like when we get back, and everyone will have tons of questions about what it was like. And then the commanders will always choose us for this sort of thing, 'cause we would have gained their trust totally and completely!"

"You _might _be over exaggerating just a little. Maybe. I'm not completely sure."

He frowned at me. "Your sarcasm isn't welcomed in my dorm. Right Jerry?!" he exclaimed towards the only other person in the room, who was sleeping on a top bunk.

"_Shut up and leave me alone!" _

Flint laughed, "Oh Jerry."

Rolling my eyes, I said: "Just take me back to my dorm."

He snickered and led me out, "Still have no ideas where you're going?"

"_No, _these hallways are winding mazes that's randomly designed! How can anyone memorize them?!"

He stopped and turned towards me, his eyes bugging dramatically out of his head, "_One whole year _of being _stuck here_ with nothing to do," said he.

"There would be more to do if you actually worked," I gave him a look, and he shrugged and continued down the small, dark hallway. He pulled out a lighter and flicked it on until we got to a lit hallway.

"Flint," he made an _hmmm_ sound, "where did you get your cigarettes?"

He made a face of both guilt and amusement—he had one of the easiest faces to read—and then, sheepishly, admitted to taking them from Cory. I started laughing, and then told him about Cory wondering how he took them. He snorted and shrugged. I also told him about seeing Cory and Marla be so cheerful, and he stopped to look at me. "You're telling me that Commander Marla is _cheerful _and _lighthearted? _That is the most stuck-up, stiff person I've ever met!"

"Not really," I muttered.

"Yeah, right. She's also the worst commander I've ever met. Like raising your colored eyebrows is going to do anything!" He rolled his eyes. "Yo, I can't wait until the day I'm a commander and can kick her out."

"Ever tried taking her seriously?" I mused, and he looked at me sideways. "Besides, all the commanders treat her like she's the leader; she must not be the worst commander you've ever met."

"Whatever. We're here," he announced. We turned a corner, and I saw my dorm door open with Felix and Harry sitting inside. I stopped, and looked at him. I was about to say thanks when he said: "Why does this feel like I walked you to your door after a date?" Suddenly I didn't want to say thank you anymore. Suddenly I didn't want to say anything, actually. "Like, should I thank you for the fun and pleasant evening?" He gave me a pointed look, "But don't you be expecting a goodnight kiss," he squinted at me, and then walked away.

"I…Wasn't?" I said, but he was gone, and I don't know if he heard me or not. "I need to memorize these hallways…" I just shook my head, shaking all of that memory off for the night. Harry and Felix were staring at me, and before I could start explaining that Flint was just being Flint—which wasn't a compliment—I noticed that there was a large travel bag and sleeping bag on my bed.

"We heard that you're going to Snowpoint," Harry said, "is this some punishment for the thing with the trains?"

"What? No! It has nothing to do with that, don't worry," I quickly said, and they nodded. "They just chose me, because they wanted me to go, I guess. I don't quite understand it myself," I laughed, and they did too. I shed my t-shirt and work boots and _questionable smelling _socks before climbing into bed; as I lay down, the weight and pure exhaustion from the day hit me hard in the chest, and my body relaxed, feeling a lot sorer then it did during the day.

"Volkner," my eyes bolt open, I hadn't realized I already closed them, and I turn my head to see that Commander Cory had stepped into my room. "We just got word from Lea, you're leaving tomorrow."

* * *

**Authors Note:**

I added an addition to Cynthia's Letters! I tried my hand at darker writing, go read it!

This chapter was long overdue, and I do apologize for that. I wrote this all in one sitting, I'm sure you can tell. This was definitely another filler chapter, but things are starting to pick up! I have a lot planned for him in Snowpoint! The next chapter, if things go as planned, will be much longer. I know this one was smaller, or at least felt small because it was a quicker and easier read. At least that's what I thought. However, I could be too positive about the situation, haha.

Thanks for reading, tell me what you think!

PS, Plastic Raven caught all the way up! Welcome, Plastic Raven!


	15. Snowbound

_Chapter Fourteen: Snowbound_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

The lights inside the train flickered as we shot through the underground tunnels. _Was the ride from Veilstone to The Underground this rickety_? I couldn't remember.

Flint was all bubbling excitement. He sat across the train car, grinning, and gave me a thumbs-up when I looked at him. He woke me up early and dragged me to the training room that morning for weightlifting and other training. He was full of too much energy, and I was half asleep.

After breakfast, Commander Marla gathered the leaving guards. She was back to her stern self, explaining that we all are held to a higher expectation, and we should not let the commanders and Champion Lea down. She explained that we would take the train to Veilstone where we would meet up with the chosen Swamp Compound guards, commanders and the Golden City scientists. From there we would all leave off towards Snowpoint, with no ideas when we would be returning. Admittedly, it was exciting; I was much too use to the idea of not knowing what would happen next to let it worry me. It wasn't until I was halfway to Veilstone that I realized I was tired of the same old thing, too.

When I had gone to my dorm to shower up and grab my things, my roommates (minus Kendal) stood around and wished me good luck. It was endearing that they were at least somewhat sad to see me off.

"This isn't a funeral," I had said to them, and smirked, "I'll be back causing trouble. Don't you worry."

Benson rolled his eyes, "Yeah like _anyone _is worried about _that._" On that note, I bid adieu.

The train ride was uneventful as always. The five of us, Flint, Brian, Thane, Tim and I, didn't speak as we travelled through the railroad. Brian and Thane seemed like people who kept to themselves. I had patrolled with them before, and they were always quiet until provoked; I saw how they were when provoked, so I knew never to provoke them. They were tall, built, and bald.

Tim, on the other hand, was short, less muscly, and had a head full of green-tinted brown hair; a tale-tell sign of Eternian genes. We had both volunteered to do laundry before, and I had learned he was pretty nice. He was a bit fidgety, and at times bossy about how much soap to put into the washing contraption that he had—apparently—"practically rebuilt time and time again." Otherwise, he was a good guy, constantly doing something around the compound to help out and keep out of trouble. I see Marla's reasoning for why she chose him.

We arrived in Veilstone. It was already dark, and I was dreading travelling through the night. There was no familiarity while I treaded through the city streets, even though I had spent what seemed like a large portion of my life here. But it wasn't in this city. It was in a compound, hidden by forestry, dead to the rest of the world.

We met at the loading docks and ports in the back and less crowded part of town. Commander Cory led our group. He walked with long strides and held his head high. As we neared the group of guards and what appeared to be the scientists we were accompanying, Cory stopped in his tracts and stepped back into our little crowd. "What is it?" someone asked him.

"Just keep walking," he grumbled, everything about his posture became uncomfortable. I had never seen him get this way, even at the ceremony when he was in the presence of Champion Lea. I held on to my heavy backpack a little tighter and started walking towards the group again.

Scanning the group, I saw a lot of unfamiliar faces, except for three guards that I recognized from The Shadows, and Commander Days. He nodded at me, "Volkner, nice to see you again," he remarked.

"If it isn't Days Gallatin," Cory spoke up, a bit hesitantly, and nodded at the fellow commander.

"Cory Bell, always fun to see you," Days flashed a smile.

"Alright, alright," the other commander announced, "enough of this reunion." Instantly Cory lost all emotion on his face, and gave his full attention to this commander. "I suppose _you people_," he pointed an old, hairy finger in my group's direction, "are the Oreburgh guards we were told we have to take with us." He cleared his throat and frowned at us. "I'm Commander Collins of The Swamp Compound, and these are _my _guardsmen," he motioned to the group of unhappy people behind him, "and these are The Golden Scientists that Head Commander Lea has asked us to escort and stay with in Snowbound."

"_Snowpoint,"_ one of the scientists corrected, "And we are thankful to have you all here. The rest of us scientists will arrive in Snowpoint a little later than we will, with more guards escorting them. However, it looks like we have plenty, especially with the Veilstone compound additions." He smiled respectively towards Days.

"It'll be one long, hell of a journey; but I know my way to that snowy ice land well, better than anyone else in my compound!" Commander Collins declared, his voice crackling as it rose. "The sooner we leave the better."

Commander Cory grabbed my arm and quickly dragged me away. I made a noise of surprise, but it was muffled by his palm. "Volkner," he removed his hand.

"That _is _my name," I retorted.

He gave me an unamused look before continuing: "Commander Collins is a rough man. He was a commander in The Shadows when I went through and…" he trailed off, his eyes suddenly traveling to a far off place, "And," he started again, "he did _not _go easy on people. I think the reason why they sent him off to Pastoria was because he was injuring the Newbies before they could even graduate. He _will _punish you; he knows the rules better than anyone in the Callousen. He's not an easygoing man."

"Why are you telling me this, Commander? I went through The Shadows, even if he wasn't there, I know what rough looks like," said I.

"Because, he was the worst," Cory whispered. "Avoid him and behave." Cory placed a hand on my shoulder, and flipped me around so we were both facing the group. They were talking amongst themselves, except for Commander Collins, who had his old man eyes locked on us.

The scientists began gathering their things when we returned. Cory looked around nervously, probably contemplating leaving, and then he was staring intently at something. I followed his gaze to Flint, who stood a few feet away smoking.

Cory's hand slapped on his thigh, and his face twisted into rage as he felt his empty pants pocket. "_Flint!" _Cory bellowed, and Flint grinned. "How do you do it?!"

"Troublemaker?" Cory's face erased again when he looked at Commander Collins, "It's a _commander's job _to make sure that there are no troublemakers in The Callousen. I guess it'll be _my job _to _fix_ that little redheaded rodent."

Although the term "redheaded rodent" was somewhat accurate for Flint, I still shuttered at Commander Collins chilling and gravely tone. He grabbed something from his pocket, a hat, and stuck it on the bald spot surrounded by gray hair on his head. "I'd say it's time to go. It'll only get colder in Pointsnow."

"Snowpoint," one of the scientists repeated, "Are you sure you can lead us there?"

Collins looked aggravated, "Of course! Why do you think Champion Lea _requested _that I be one of the commanders escorting you? I ask only one thing of you scientists, don't disrespect Head Commander Lea." He shot a look to all the guards around him, "You rodents better not disrespect him, either, or you'll get what deserves to be coming to you."

Turning my head, I looked at Cory, who was biting his lip and looking paler than normal. He looked at me, and raised an eyebrow. I mouthed: "You were right," silently to him, and he nodded, comprehending perfectly.

He replied silently: "Good luck," before slinking backwards out of the light from the docks.

I had a feeling I would need all of the luck I could get.

* * *

The rhythmic rush of air against my ears was almost a lullaby as it got deeper into the night. However, the thought of falling asleep on my Staravia and then plummeting to my death kept me awake.

Even though I was surrounded by a large number of other flyers, it was easy to feel alone while flying; totally and completely alone. There was something so refreshing about that feeling. I hadn't spent a lot of my life _alone. _I always shared a bedroom with my brother, and if I wasn't in my bedroom, I was with friends or family or at trainer school. Except for when I would go to the shack. Maybe that's why I adored the shack so much. It was my refuge and where I could be alone.

The Staravia's and Staraptor's began to caw all at once, alerting the flyers. A few of the guards had started yelling to one another, but nothing I could comprehend. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone fly up next to me. I looked, and it was Flint; his puffy hair looking extra puffy as it caught in the wind.

"Yo! Volk! Look!" he pointed downward. Hesitantly, I leaned to the side of the bird, and peered down. I could see rocky terrain, we were nearing Coronet Mountain, and then I saw a large Pokémon. As I watched, it took off—flying up towards us. The Flying Types began cawing again, this time they were more panicked.

My Staravia turned his head to look at me, and I could see the fear in the bird's eye. I tugged on its feathers, "Let's go up some," I coaxed, not wanting to scare him even more. We gently rose up, and other guards followed my lead. I gripped the Pokémon with my legs tightly, and leaned over to look for the Pokémon again. It was flying, pretty close to the ground, wary of all of the Staraptor's and Staravia's flying overhead.

"That's the last thing we would have needed!" I recognized Tim's voice. He must have been flying close by. "Attacked by a Dragonite."

_Dragonite? _This information startled me. I leaned again, but the Dragonite was gone. _No wonder the birds were all worried, _I thought, as I settled and relaxed on Staravia once again.

Coronet Mountain was fog-filled and cold. I started realizing that I had never experienced real cold since I was from Shore. We flew higher and higher, looking for somewhere on the mountain to land, and everything became colder and colder. Thankfully, I was given the winter edition of the guardsmen uniform, which consisted of: Thick wool socks, wool lined coat, two pairs of heavier—yet still ugly gold—pants, and black leather gloves. I had never worn leather before, and it wasn't very comfortable, but it kept my hands from freezing then proceeding to fall off due to hypothermia.

Finally, we landed somewhere on the mountain. Once I was back on my feet I felt nauseated, and realized how frozen my face had become. We weren't even near snow, yet, and I was dreading every moment that was to come.

We take no breaks, Commander Collins announced, and we descended by foot down a path on Coronet. The scientists advised that we take this portion by foot since it had high points difficult to fly through. I respected their knowledge, but flying was much easier than trekking, especially late at night when exhaustion was starting to set in.

Once we hiked up part of the mountain it looked clear enough to fly again, so we all brought out our Flying Types and took to the skies. After this, it wasn't long at all until it started snowing.

And the snow never ended.

The farther, the snowier everything became. The mountain was coated, and it became too blizzardy for flight. Back to foot we went.

The snow was knee-deep, and the bottom half of my legs were cold and wet. Shivering, I pulled my hood up and tightened it as much as I could around my face. Looking around, I saw everyone else looking just as miserable and cold, except for Commander Collins. He led the group with a weird grin on his face, one that portrayed a look of pain and constipation. He was oddly enjoying this assignment; enjoying it too much.

Commander Days was trailing behind him. He was less enthused, all hunched over and breathing into his hands. It was—

Something thumped into the back of my head. My pace slowed, and I started to turn around.

Suddenly wet, cold, frozen, and sharp snow was covering my bare face. I let out a noise not too far from that of a roar, and furiously began wiping my face.

Flint started to cackle mischievously. My face became so hot with anger that the rest of the ice melted off.

"_Flint!" _I roared, absolutely not having any of his evil actions. I instantaneously scooped up the wicked white stuff, it feeling totally unfamiliar in my hands, and threw it with as much anger and veracity as I could muster. It nailed him right in the face, unfortunately he had a scarf wrapped around most of his face, and he shook his head hard.

He pointed at me, and got into a battle stance, "This war has just begun!" he proclaimed.

"Redheaded Rodent and that other troublemaker," Commander Collins called. At this point, we had lagged to the back of our group. "Don't make me come back there! _Keep a move on!" _

"See?! You're getting us into trouble!" I whisper-yelled to Flint.

Flint sniggered and ran up beside me. "I couldn't help myself! I've never seen snow before!" He pulled his scarf off of his face and stuck his unusually long tongue out of his mouth.

"What are you doing?" I asked, staring at him with bafflement and confusion.

He tried to speak with his tongue hanging out: "Ca-hing no-phlakes with my tongue, duh."

"My exhaustion and freezing _everything _is keeping me from being amused," I muttered, and then quickly grabbed a handful of snow and stuffed it in his scarf.

Flint gasped from the cold and ripped his scarf off, angrily stuffing it in his pocket. "More like, _bad attitude, _you little son of a—"

"Watch out!" someone screamed, snapping our attentions away. At the front of our posse, a huge tree had toppled over. We began running, as best as we could through the tall snow, towards the tree to make sure everyone was alright. But as soon as we neared, something huge and white rose out of a snowbank, roaring and growling and swinging its large, stumpy arms.

It hit a few people during its swings, sending them into the deep snow. Reacting on impulse, I grabbed Pikachu off of my hip and released him. "Thunder Shock!" I yell with desperation. Pikachu was absolutely frazzled at the entire situation, but after only a moment of being in shock, he sent electric-filled attacks towards the huge Pokémon.

The rival Pokémon roared and collapsed to the ground with paralysis. By this time, Flint had released his Monferno, and was barking off commands. The Pokémon was using multiple fire attacks, but it was seemingly ineffective, especially when the opponent got up and raised its arms. It let out a roar that ripped through the air, causing some of us to put our hands to our ears. Then, the blizzard picked up, and it looked as if the Pokémon was directing it towards Pikachu and Monferno.

Other guards and the fellow scientists began releasing their Pokémon. Commands were being called off all around, and a mixture of Starapor's and Staravia's and random other—stronger—Pokémon all ganged up on this monster. I quickly returned Pikachu since he was nearly useless, and watched while within moments our Pokémon took down this snow beast. It fainted, and fell right back into its snowbank, completely disappearing.

It was silent for a few minutes as we caught our breaths and helped the people who had gotten flung into snow. We had no choice but to pull out extra clothing for these freezing people, and even wrap some of them in sleeping bags. We took a moment to drink up and rest.

"What Pokémon _was _that?" Days asked one of the scientists.

"Abomasnow, very high in level, and not the only beast up here," the scientist answered. He looked towards the sky, "Luckily, it seemed that our friend was the cause for the nasty blizzard, so we could probably fly for the rest of Coronet."

"You heard the man!" Commander Collins, who had also been injured from the attack and was wrapped in a sleeping bag, bellowed at everyone. "Let's get to flying!" He tried to unravel himself—his face turning red from failure and embarrassment and anger—and then, after receiving help from Days, yelled: "Move it, before that _thing _wakes up and whips up another blizzard!"

It was only lightly snowing, and the wind wasn't as icy and terrible like before. Flying again was phenomenal. I relaxed on my Pokémon, not realizing how sore I had become from lugging my heavy travel bag around for so long.

Staravia's neck hair was soft and fluffy, and I lay my head down on it, tempted to use it as a sleeping pillow; but I was much too awake after the Abomosnow incident to sleep now. I just let the quiet and the absolute blackness of the dark night comfort me, and we flew onward until dawn.

* * *

Watching the sunrise while flying over Route 217 would have been an incredible sight if you could have seen the sun through the thick blanket of snow clouds.

However, it had gotten a lot lighter out, which was a good indication that it was morning, and I had been awake for a solid twenty-four hours. Flint wasn't wrong; I definitely had a bad attitude.

Our arrival to Snowpoint wasn't as eventful as I had anticipated. We landed near what seemed to be loading docks, with a ship leaving the harbor. There was a warehouse building nearby. We approached the building and opened the door.

"This is a sleep house for the sailors, we'll be staying here temporarily," Commander Days explained. "Guards, begin setting up camp here. Get a fire going, make up some dinner. There's an icebox outside, perhaps that has some food we can cook up. I'm going to accompany the scientists to the Center, where they will be staying." He nodded at us, and left with the scientists. Commander Collins muttered something about looking for that icebox and wandered outside.

Looking around, I noticed this place wasn't that big. It was one large room, with a bathroom in the back separated by a long curtain, and a ladder leading into a loft where I assumed there were beds. There was a fireplace, and immediately I walked over to it. My strides were heavy and pretty slow, since I was still exhausted, but I made it without passing out. Next to the fireplace was cut firewood, I began shoving the new wood into it. When I was done I turned around, my fellow guardsmen were unpacking supplies and making camp. "Flint," I got his attention and waved him over. He brought out his Monferno and lit the fireplace.

My heart leapt at the sight. I began taking off my wet articles of clothing and warming up next to the fire. I couldn't feel half of my body due to the cold.

"I found some Starly!" Collins exclaimed as he brought frozen Starly meat through the door. My mouth watered, I was so hungry, and Starly didn't taste that bad.

We got settled in, and Days soon returned, announcing that the scientist were going to rest up and start their research in the morning. I tried asking what they were here to research, but Collins snapped at me, telling me it wasn't my business.

Our feast of roasted Starly and a partially wilted variation of berries was a meal for champions. We devoured every last bit of it.

"Well…" Days, who was leaning against a wall looking satisfied after our meal, said, "Looks like we'll have to go hunting and gathering for berries. And we'll need to take a look at the Mart."

"I'll take a group of hunters," Collins grumbled.

"And I'll take a group of gatherers," Days confirmed. "Who's coming with me?"

"I am," I announced, as quickly as possible. I had never thought of the idea of hunting before, but I wasn't willing to hunt yet. A few of us left off with Days to brace the chilling cold of outside, right when we had just began to warm up.

Days led us out of town. I didn't see the town, only got to see a few glimpses of lanterns through the snow.

While we were out picking and finding berry plants, my exhaustion started to set in again, and I was shivering from the frosty wind.

"Look alive," one of my fellow guardsmen yelled to me. He was one of the Swamp Compound guards. I hadn't spent a lot of time around them, but already I could gather that they were all harsh, and accustomed to Commander Collins ways. I rolled my eyes, carelessly plucked another berry, and tossed it into the nearby basket. How I, or anyone else for that matter, was managing to do this at all was a miracle.

Tim, who was standing next to a tree nearby, was humming while he plucked. It was, frankly, one of the most annoying things I had ever heard.

_How about, we stay quiet, _I thought, not having the energy to speak.

Eventually we wandered back to the makeshift compound. We had gathered quite a bit of berries. This was good because the hunters hadn't found any edible Pokémon, so for now it was berries or nothing.

"Unless Snover are edible," one of the guards yelled when they stalked inside, "we couldn't find any Pokémon!"

"Quit your complaining, Princess!" Collins barked, pointing his gun at him. The guard flinched. "We'll just go out tonight and see about some Noctowl. We are Callousen! We can handle any situation thrown at us, this situation is no exception!" He leaned his rifle against the wall before starting to strip, all the way down to his yellow-stained long-johns. "I'm going to get some shut-eye so my hunting instincts won't fail me tonight," he said, and then descended up the ladder.

Everyone relaxed, and stopped holding their breath. There was something about that man that made you completely uncomfortable in his presence. He wasn't a smart man, by any means, but he was intimidating and, well, knew how to work a big gun.

Sitting near the fireplace, I had finally felt warm. My body was stiff and sore from the long travels, and I was past exhaustion. Looking around, I saw people starting to fall asleep on the cold, concrete floor. There was no furniture in this place, except for a small table and chairs, but they were currently filled with supplies and our freshly picked berries.

My travel bag was in arms reach, so I grabbed it and pulled it closer. I switched into a clean tee and socks before resting my head on the bag, and wrapping up in my sleeping bag.

Instantly I fell into a deep sleep. However, it wasn't deep enough, because only a mere few hours later, a gunshot rang through the room, and I was leaping up off of the ground as quickly as I could.

* * *

**Authors Note**: I put a poll on my profile about a better genre that describes this story. Adventure/? Suspense is still an option. Go vote and let me know! Also, how do you like the new summary? Plastic Raven gave me solid advice (Thank you Plastic Raven!) and I like this summary much better than the old one.

He's finally in Snowpoint! I've been excited for this for a while! Things are getting interesting, and I'm really excited! What do you think?

Thanks for reading!


	16. Guardsmen

_Chapter Fifteen: Guardsmen_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

A yelp of pain and desperation is soon to follow the ring of the gunshot. Immediately I'm scanning the room, searching for a victim while standing in a crouch, ready to be caught off guard again.

The fire had burnt down, leaving the room dark and filled with flickering shadows caused by the flames. Everyone else was up or cowering under a sleeping bag. It had only been seconds since the gunshot, but it felt longer as I drowsily tried to take everything in.

"_My foot!" _someone cried.

Tim.

Following the sound of his voice, I could see his outline nearby. He was curled up on the floor, holding his foot in his hands.

"That's what you deserve!" Commander Collins bellowed. He was standing over Tim, glowering at him, and he raised his head to scan the room. "You are all _stupid!" _he screamed.

"My foot," Tim repeats, this time in a whimper. A few people crawl over to him.

"Don't touch him!" Collins points his gun at them, and they raise their hands and crawl away.

Days is on his feet and approaching Collins. He swears at him, and says: "What did you do?!"

"What did _you _do, so-called Commander?! You are _all _supposed to be trained guardsmen!" he huffs, and tosses the gun on the floor. We all relax when it's out of his grasp. "I went to bed, letting all of you know I needed to rest up for hunting, and when I woke up, _every single one of you _was sleeping! How irresponsible! We don't know who our enemy is here! Snowpoint is unknown territory! We don't know the locals, and they certainly don't know Callousen! I've never seen such sloppy, lazy guards! Not one of you was keeping watch? Commander, you were in charge!"

"So you shot a man in his foot?!" Days yelled back. Tim whimpers and lets out another cry. Days kneels down next to him.

"I had to wake up these lazy guards somehow! And I could have done worse. And I will if I have to." Collins shoots an icy look to Tim before stomping out the front door. "Someone gather a group of hunters! I'm hungry!" he slams the door.

"For the love of Sinnoh, someone please grab a few guards and head out with that man!" Days commanded, and then some guards were on their feet and rushing out the door—letting in a chilling breeze as they did. "I need bandages! Warm water! Anything!" he adds, and suddenly I'm rushing to the supplies and grabbing bandages. Someone adds firewood and gets the fire going strong before heating up a pot of water.

We gathered the sleeping bags and made a comfortable place for Tim, right in front of the fireplace. His foot was tightly wrapped, but already soaked through with red, sticky blood. Days was covered in the blood, and there was a small pool from where Tim was sleeping.

Tim didn't say much, and he seemed very disoriented and unaware. One of the guards assumed it was shock, and said the only thing we can do is keep an eye on him. I suggested we take him to the Center, but Days objected, saying that would bring too much attention to us.

"We don't want to scare the locals like this. We want them to realize we're the authority, but, this is a bit much," he sighs, and looks sympathetically at Tim.

"What am I supposed to do if I can't walk?" Tim mutters the best that he could. "If I can't be a guardsmen?"

Days doesn't answer.

"We won't let that happen," I say, and Days gives me a death glare.

"Don't worry about that, Tim," he finally speaks, while staring at me, "Volkner, don't ever say something like that around Collins. That sounds so defiant. He would have your neck."

"Or my foot," I replied, and Days glared again.

"Just go make yourself useful somewhere," he said, a firm coat of venom, anger and exhaustion in his tone.

Leaving the two of them alone, I wandered over to Flint. His hair stuck up all over from sleeping, but he looked wide awake. His eyes widened when he looked at me. "Yo…That could have been my foot!" he whispered. "I was sleeping next to Tim!"

Nodding, I didn't reply. What was I supposed to say?

Someone pulled the curtain for the bathroom back and stepped out, reminding me how much I needed a shower. It wasn't until I was in the shower that I realized I had Tim's blood on me, too. I stood there, letting the cold water douse me, staring as the blood washed off my hands. With Collins, this could be an everyday thing; every day, another victim. I would have to take it one day at a time.

* * *

The day had gotten progressively worse. Whether it was my hunger, exhaustion or the constant concern of having a bullet blown into my foot, I didn't know, and frankly, I didn't have the time or energy to think about it.

Commander Collins returned empty-handed later in the morning. He had nothing to say except his announcement that the scientists would be waiting for escorts, and he and his group of hunters were going to sleep. Commander Days quickly assigned a large group of escorts and sent them into town before assigning the remaining guards duties. Mine was to head out to the Mart accompanied by two others to buy supplies and food, and then to the Center to heal all the guardsmen's Pokémon. He assigned guards to keep watch at the makeshift compound, and then he left, joining the escorts and scientists.

Before leaving off, I briefly spoke to Tim. He was drifting in and out of sleep, and had muttered something about feeling the pain even as he slept. I had sympathy for him; he didn't do anything wrong, just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was snowing as I saw the town for the first time. There wasn't much to see. Old houses, smoke billowing out of the chimneys with lanterns on each door, and no one to be seen until we entered the Mart.

There were two aged woman standing behind the counter, seemingly not paying mind to us, but there was a man in the Mart, staring at us, and left as soon as we were in. Their impression of guardsmen wasn't a good one, I assumed. We searched the store for food and supplies. We picked up more bandages, aloes and healing lotions, breads and almost all the berries they had in stock. There was no meat to be found, and when we put all of our items on the counter, I asked the duo of old ladies if they sold meat, and they replied in unison, "No."

After this, we found the Center and spent quite some time waiting for all of the Pokémon to be healed. The people who worked in the Center were not pleased by our presence, and eyed our uniforms with quite the judgmental glare. I could tell that my two colleagues were getting annoyed by this, but frankly, I didn't care. I wanted nothing more than to chow down on the undercooked bread we had bought. Alas, I didn't want my foot blown off by Collins, so I refrained.

When we returned to the compound, Collins was awake and seemingly in the middle of a speech about how pathetic we guardsmen were, and how we wouldn't last in the Swamp Compound for a single day. That led into him announcing we would start patrolling the town.

"By patrolling the town," he said, "we'll introduce ourselves as the authority, and scope out for any threats. Since we don't know how long we'll be here, getting that established is our priority!" He scoped the room. "Raise your hand if you're patrolmen!"

"Oh boy," I murmured, and raised my hand.

"Alright then, let's go!"

* * *

Commander Collins was annoyingly energetic. There was a spring in his step as we stomped through the fresh dusting of snow headed towards the town. Once we got closer to civilization, he turned on his heels and commanded us to line up like patrolmen. Not knowing what that meant, I followed the lead of the small group I was with. We got aligned and Collins led the way.

We began marching through the town. Already I had a mindset of being back patrolling. In Oreburgh, my mind would almost numb as it wandered because of boredom. Sometimes something interested happened, or you were paired with someone who wasn't as stiff and such a stickler as the people with me in Snowpoint. Most of the time, however, it was just boring; especially if you weren't one to pick fights with the locals.

It started snowing harder as we made our second loop around the town. Unsurprisingly, the town looked exactly the same the second time. The houses were pretty large, but all had the same cabin-like style and a lantern hanging on the front porch. Some of the houses looked light inside, others were dark. Some had billows of smoke from the chimney, others looked chillingly untouched. We could see the gym from our route. It looked like all the other gyms I've seen, except it was covered in snow and there were no footprints headed towards it whatsoever. I guess no one was interested in the gym in Snowpoint.

My stomach growled, loudly. Not only was the repetition of walking in circles boring me, but my audibly hungry stomach, exhaustion and the bone-chilling cold of the air made the whole ordeal miserable.

Suddenly, I was being pushed to the ground, and I was engulfed in the snow. I quickly found my way back up to my feet, and angrily looked around.

"You weren't even paying a speck of attention," Collins said, with little emotion. I had never heard him speak without having exuberant enthusiasm behind it, and it was alarming to hear him seem so serious. "You weren't even slightly prepared to be slapped on the shoulder, you slumped over like a sleeping idiot. Did you notice me walk from the top of the group back here to you? No," he answered before I could, "because you weren't paying _attention." _

He got in my face and frowned. "You are a _soldier," _he growled, and spit in my face. He hit my back with his fist, "Stand up _straight you pathetic lifeform!" _I straightened my back. He grabbed my shoulder and tried to pull it back. "Back straight, shoulders back! And tuck in your shirt!" He swore, and yanked at my coat; busting off a button. "You can clearly see your shirt poking out of the bottom of your coat!" He was breathing hard and looking anxious, like he wanted to say so much more but was so angry he couldn't. He spit in the snow, and then looked at the other patrolmen. "Continue on!" he bellowed at them, and they quickly began marching in perfect alignment and stature.

He pointed a dirty finger at me, and breathed hard in my face. His breath smelled like fish. Perhaps he was secretly hording fish and feasting on them, that's how he kept his…Large figure. "You need to get your act together. This is a _warning._ You only get one of those."

"Tim didn't get a warning, you hypocritical, monstrous worm!"

Is what I would have said if I said exactly what I wanted to. But in reality, I replied: "Yes, sir." And we continued on our merry way, catching back up with the guards, and continuing our loop for what seemed like a frosty eternity.

By the time we returned to the compound, my face was so red and frostbitten that the aloes we had purchased burned so bad, I was convinced my face was melting off. Flint assured me that that wasn't the case. I wandered over to one of the windows and looked out. The sun was setting.

"It's only been _one day," _I said.

"Yeah, do you think the scientists are ready to go home now?" Flint laughed, but I shrugged, and walked away. "No? Not in the joking mood?"

"That joke was so funny, I'm going to laugh about it over here," I said, kind of bitterly.

"Oh Volk, don't be so brutish," he said.

I turned around and looked at him, "Better to be brutish then a redheaded rodent."

Something crossed his face, and I regretted saying that with such a tone, but I was too tired and hungry to take it back. It was Flint, after all, he would get over it.

We waited around for the group who accompanied the scientists to return. They were beyond tired, and all complaining of headaches. "It's the lake!" one of them cried, their eyes tearing up, "Being there causes headaches. The longer, the worse!"

They all climbed up the ladder and into the loft, needing rest.

"The lake?" I repeated, but Collins glared at me, and I said no more.

We stayed in the compound, warming up by the fire as night fell. We ate bread and berries, and I was thankful for every bite, like I had never eaten pasta or my mom's cheesy casserole before. Our meal options were extremely limited and extremely distasteful, but when you spent a whole day dealing with Collins while starving, you feasted; no matter the menu.

Some of the guards grumbled about how unsuccessful hunting was, and Collins joined in by insulting their hunting skills and claimed: "If I were alone I would have shot everything in the forest!"

That was probably true. He would have shot every tree and, well, person's foot in the forest. However, I don't think he would have come home with any more meals. He continued to insult the hunters, and I felt like I could smell his nasty fish breath from all the way across the room. That gave me an idea.

"Why don't we try fishing?" I suggested, and everyone looked at me for a quiet moment before they agreed.

"Tonight, we will fish, then," Collins said, and then stood up from the ground. "I think we should make a few more rounds of patrol before we go to bed. See if these snow people are more active at night. I need some more guards, who's willing?" He looked around, and I looked at Flint.

We met eyes, and I grinned. He shook his head and mouthed: "No." I nodded, this time more vigorously, and made a gesture with my hand that—somehow—was meant to beckon him into joining us. It must have worked, because he rolled his eyes and then raised his hand.

This time, patrolling wasn't as dreadful. Flint and I marched at the back of our group, and Collins led the way with a lantern. We spoke quietly to one another about nothing in-particular, and just with the addition of that simple element—and not being hungry—patrolling wasn't so bad.

Flint started to snicker, Flint's famously mischievous snicker, and I looked at him, almost afraid to know what he was laughing at. He pointed towards Collins. I looked, not understanding what I was looking at other than an oddly enthusiastic, mean, old dude. "His pants!" Flint whispers, and laughed so hard he was breathless.

This time I saw it. His zipper and button were undone, and on his butt. He had successfully put on his pants backwards.

Even though at any other time I wouldn't have laughed; that time being when I had a full night's sleep and wasn't wandering in circles, because it wasn't all that funny, but my newly cheerful attitude that I acquired after eating and my urge to find something entertaining made me start to laugh.

Of course Commander Collins noticed our laughter and stomped back to us. "You two! Why'd I let you two be together?! Commander Cory's little molds, you are!" He looked at Flint, "Redheaded Rodent! You are just as bad as this one," points at me, "I'm going to have _fun _working on you, aren't I?" He grinned, it was terrifying. "I don't care if I have to cut out your throat to make you not laugh while working, I'm going to do whatever it takes to make you guys what you need to be."

"Commander Collins—" Flint began, but Collins slapped his jaw, and I heard it pop.

"You two," he said, his fishy breath visible, "are going to be soldiers when I'm through with you. No more slacking off. No more drowning out during patrol! Is this what that Cory teaches you in the dirty compound?" He made a "hmph" noise before continuing, "Maybe you guards need to spend less time underground and more time in the fresh air! You tell them I say that when you get back!" He began marching again. "Whatever it takes, I said! Let's go!" he yelled.

We followed, speechless, with perfect stature and alignment. That was the beginning of my hatred for being Callousen.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hey! I should have more free time on my hands now, whether that means I pump out more chapters for this or more Cynthia's Letters (New addition! It's romancey and depressing - obviously, that means you have to go read and review it right now - and Volkner is in it. Ooooo.) I don't know, but hopefully it means more of something! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I like it. It might be a bit rushed, but in my opinion, it's an easy read for a lengthy chapter. And a fatty chapter. It has a lot of description and minor little things going on and that's usually the least fun to read - hopefully that ain't the case with this chapter.

Ramble ramble ramble.

Thanks for reading! It's appreciated.


	17. Zoey

_Chapter Sixteen: Zoey_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

Collins never left Flint and I alone. He insisted on us continually being with him, that meaning when he slept, we slept; when he was fishing, we were fishing; so on, so forth. We didn't speak to each other or, anyone really, except the occasional reply to Commander Collins during the course of the few days. We chopped firewood with him, gathered berries, made trips to the Mart, and patrolled with him. He was constantly critiquing us. He went out of his way to critique us—anything for an excuse to get physically abusive, I suppose—and, the worst of it all, at the end of each day our punishment for not improving as soldiers was to go out in the freezing snow and attempt sprints without eating dinner.

Luckily, fishing was a bit more successful, so our compound was pumping out three small meals a day now. Being without dinner wasn't as bad as it would have been at first, but it was still torturous nonetheless.

Flint and I sat at the compound. We were coughing and hacking since we both were dreadfully sick because our lungs were seemingly damaged by the cold weather, or something of the like. All of the guards were sick or just getting over sickness at this point.

The scientists were sick also, and had taken a few days off because of it. The Callousen escorts were beyond pleased, because apparently the lake was a terrible place that caused great headaches. A few of our guards passed out cold when exposed to it for too long. No one knew why, though, and that's what they wanted to figure out.

Tim could walk—well, he was forced to walk by Collins, who gave him an intense threat when he was a "deadweight"—but he couldn't do much. He did dishes and anything else from the sleep house, but Commander Days made sure he kept busy while not being harmful to himself. Collins just ignored him. Mostly everyone did, because anyone who corresponded with him was usually insulted later by Collins. And he's never in a talkative mode, anyways.

Commander Collins stood up from where he half-slept in the corner, while the three of us were supposed to be guarding the compound since a group was patrolling and another group was sleeping, that including Tim. He sneezed—quite graphically and disgustingly—and sniffled. He was probably the sickest out of any of us. "The other patrolmen will be back soon…You two can patrol on your own, right?" he asked as he wandered towards the ladder.

"Yes," I quickly said, "yes, sir, we can." My drowsiness suddenly disappeared at the thought of Flint and I patrolling by ourselves. However, my raging headache and faucet-like nose did not disappear.

Collins went up into the loft, leaving the two of us alone. We looked at each other excitedly and waited for the group of patrolmen to return. After some time, they came in, and we left out.

As soon as we walked into town we were able to breathe freely. "Oh my _gosh_, finally a break!" I exclaimed as enthusiastically as I could.

Flint clasped his hands over my mouth. "Shhh, do you hear that?" he whispered. "That's the sound of sweet, sweet freedom!" He raised his fists into the air, and then was thrown into a coughing fit. I laughed, but my head throbbed, so I stopped.

"Maybe we can go to the Center and relax in the warmth. We should get a room, take a nap for a few hours."

"Wouldn't that be the best way to get shipped to the League on the Wagon of Depression? Let's not push our luck." Flint had a point. "However, since patrolling this town, I've wondered two things," I looked at him as he held two fingers up, "Firstly, why do we never _see _anyone? Secondly, why is the gym practically abandoned?"

"Well…Maybe the locals have been hiding in their cabins, plotting against us so they can rid us from their precious town. And the gym is abandoned because the locals have been hiding in their cabins, plotting against us so they can rid us from their precious town."

He nodded. "Very possible. Maybe they're invisible, too."

"They must be masterminds, since they figured out how to become invisible, and are plotting against us so they can rid us from their precious town," I added.

He looked at me sideways, "You need new witty material." He looked forward again, and stopped in his tracts. "Dang it Volk! We're going on the patrol route!"

We had already looped around the town in perfect patrol fashion. I sighed, "We're so used to it that we did it without realization. We have failed ourselves."

"That we have. Time to redeem ourselves!" He turned away from the imprinted footprints and stomped through the snow.

I followed him, suddenly feeling ten years old again; following Flint somewhere unknown as he bravely led the way. "How are we to redeem ourselves?"

"We're going to the gym," he stated.

I stopped, and suddenly remembered why my ten year old self was always infuriated with Flint. "You're going the wrong way, then, Stupid."

He turned around and grinned sheepishly. "Alright then. Time to redeem ourselves…Again! Lead the way, Volk!"

We walked across town until the gym was in sight. We trekked through the deep snow and approached the large building. The snow was halfway up the walls and doors. "There's no getting in," I said. "Looks like we aren't redeeming ourselves today."

Flint shrugged, "Yo, I really don't care. A break from Commander Buttcrack is redemption enough." He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. "Smoke?" he offered, but I declined.

"I'll take one."

We froze and stared at each other, partially wondering if the other one had said that, but the extremely feminine voice indicated otherwise. Flint looked frozen solid with the cigarette dangling from his lips, and his hand lingering in front of him, holding a lighter.

"And who's Commander Buttcrack?" The voice let out a breath of laughter. Finally, we turned—slowly—and looked towards the voice. A few feet away stood a girl, no younger than I was, dressed in black with matching black and white hair, cut just to her chin, and a look of amusement on her round face. She began walking closer. Flint's cigarette dropped from his mouth, but he seemingly didn't notice, and neither did I until she picked it up and put it to her mouth. "Well?" she asked him, her amusement still written on her face. He snapped out of the shock and lit the cigarette. She took a large breath before speaking again. "You two are funny," smoke curled from her mouth as she talked, "but you still need to answer my question."

"Your question?" I echoed.

"Commander Buttcrack?" she reminded, and took another drag from the cigarette.

"Oh, that's no one," Flint waved his hand and laughed nervously. "I'm more interested in who _you _are," he smirked, and I squinted at him.

"I'm Zoey, and you two?" She looked at us.

"They call me Flint the Fiery Master…But you can call me Flint. Or Master." He smiled, and she just nodded, clearly entertained. She turned towards me.

"Volkner," I answered, "and you can call me Volkner."

She giggled, looking like a young, innocent teenager. "Good to know." She stood there, smoking and looking at us, suddenly looking older beyond her years, and not so young. She composed herself well, and carried herself in a womanly way. It was striking. Then I realized I was staring.

We didn't know what we were supposed to do. Were we even allowed to talk to people who weren't Callousen, or someone who wasn't getting punished? Did this girl deserve punishment for talking to us? We were both baffled and, well, worried about being punished ourselves.

"So…Live around here?" Flint asked as he raised his hand up to his hair, pretending to push the red puff back but actually flexing. I squinted again, unsure of how to handle that sight.

Zoey did the same. "Yeah…I live around here. As I have my entire life. And, you know, in my entire life we have never had guards up here…What's that about?"

"Well, you see," I was rolling my eyes as Flint—speaking in a much deeper voice then his natural voice—began to explain, "Champion—or, as we call him, Head Commander—Lea wanted escorts, the best of the best from the Guards of Lea, to accompany some Golden Scientists who are here for research." Flint cleared his throat and tried giving Zoey quite the seductive glance. Zoey nodded.

"Were you following us?" I asked as the thought popped into my mind. This whole situation was quite strange.

"Yes. But before you assume the worse, Volkner," she emphasized my name, "I saw you two out in the town, laughing and talking and not acting like normal guards, and decided that you were actually safe to talk to." She finished the cigarette and flicked it into the snow. "And I was bored. What are ya gonna do?"

"You're brave, talking to a guard and all," Flint said, in his deep manly voice.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, causing her thin black and white hair to feather into her face. "You two are harmless, I can already tell. Probably just like the rest of the guards here."

"I wouldn't say that," I interjected, "you haven't met Commander Collins."

"Commander Collins? Is he Commander Buttcrack or are they two different people?"

"Unfortunately, they're the same," I answered, "and they're both brutal. He's the one that wants us to patrol the town. He wants us to establish who our enemies are." I played the last line off as a joke, but she was serious, and something crossed her face briefly. "But you Snowpointians"—she made a face when I used that word—"are harmless."

"I wouldn't say _that," _she said, and grinned.

"What do you mean? Are you guys plotting against us so you can rid us from your precious town?" Flint asked, minus the manly voice. He must have forgotten.

I gave him a look that clearly said _"Wow, dude, I can't believe you used my witty banter"_ but he ignored it.

"Of course not! But we are concerned. I guess we just want to know _why _you're here." She said, quite inquisitively. Something was weird about this whole correspondence. She wanted answers from us, for some reason, and in my gut I knew that it was bad news to give her an answer. Flint started to say something, but I knew he was much too caught up in figuring out another way to "discretely" flex in front of this girl to think rationally, so I interrupted.

"It's Callousen business," I waved my hand, and Flint gave me a look that clearly said _"Yo, you just totally ruined my moment with this chick"_ but I ignored it, "I don't think we should talk about it."

"Callousen? Is that what you call yourselves?"

"Well, it is our title, so yeah," I quickly replied, and then started walking away. Flint was aggravated, but I didn't care.

"Don't leave so soon," Zoey said, a little desperately but also playfully.

"Patrolling waits," I said, and motioned for Flint to join me. He pointed to Zoey behind her back, and I shook my head at him. He groaned, and then followed me.

"What was _that?!" _he whisper-yelled to me when he caught up.

"She was trying to get Callousen information from us, Flint. She wants to know why we're here, and _we _barely know why we're here, do you think we can tell her without getting in trouble?"

"Yes!"

"Uh, no. You're delusional."

His face fell. "You're such a killjoy," he spit, venomously.

"Sorry Bud. And, next time, don't use the deep voice." I patted his back reassuringly, but he only rolled his eyes and gave me an inappropriate hand gesture. I laughed it off, but he was actually quite mad.

A few silent minutes had passed. "You're right," Flint said, drawing me from my thoughts and boredom, "about Zoey. She probably was just trying to get information from us. I haven't seen a girl—minus Marla—in so long, I guess I wasn't thinking straight." He shrugged, and smirked at me.

"Yeah…It was weird, being approached like that. People don't usually approach guards. I wish we could have asked her why there's never anyone around, though. Except for in the Mart and Center, of course."

"True. But I guess," he sighed, and then, a bit sadly, added: "We'll never see her again."

* * *

However, we saw Zoey again, the very next day. And we heard of her again, that very night, when we wandered back to the compound after patrol.

We were tired and very sick. And, most importantly, surprised at the sight we saw when we arrived back: Guards had made a large dinner, the place wasn't a complete mess, and there was little coughing and hacking to be heard. The earlier patrolmen had gotten medicine from a girl named Zoey who they encountered at the Center. Commander Days seemingly didn't care why they were at the Center, and Collins was still in bed—blowing snot bubbles everywhere—so we took some medicine. It shot down our throats like fire, and cleared our noses with the speed of lightning. I could swear that it eased my headache instantly, too.

"Thank you Zoey!" Flint cheered, and then got into a conversation with another guard about her hotness; even though the other guard was easily twenty-five. Yikes.

Days was standing nearby, eating a piece of Magikarp, and I approached him. "Commander Days," he looked at me, "you aren't concerned about this Zoey girl, and how all of the guards talked to her?"

"The only thing I'm concerned about is Collins finding out. He won't, because no one will tell him. The medicine is almost gone, he probably won't even get any," he shrugged, and yawned; probably exhausted like the rest of us. "I'm not concerned about some girl trying to be kind to us. Snowpoint is a very traditional part of Sinnoh. They're practically cut-off from the rest of the region. They might be concerned about us, and trying to reach out by this simple act, but otherwise, they're harmless. They have traditional values and very simple ways."

"Then why are we patrolling every day? Why did the scientists need escorts?"

He shrugged again, and sighed, "Because Champion Lea said so? I can't answer that. All I know is, we were told to do this, so we're going to do it…Without question." He raised his eyebrows and stared me down, making sure I understood the seriousness of what he said. I nodded, and he walked away.

Flint and I got out of running sprints since Collins slept until midnight, and then proceeded to take out a group of fishermen. We got some sleep—not nearly enough sleep—and we awoke for morning patrolling with Collins.

The day progressed as normal. Our sicknesses were almost gone, but the miserableness of the whole situation was not, and that laid on me and Flint. We didn't speak. We didn't want to. It reminded me vividly of The Shadows. Although we had plenty of time to talk to each other in The Shadows, most of the time we were silent, because we just didn't want to talk.

Commander Collins, on the other hand, was still sickly and very eager to talk to us about all of our mistakes. He was slightly delusional, and started accusing us of things that didn't make any sense.

"You two are pathetic! Eating all the ice cream! You need to share! I know you made a key—a key out of soap—and you ate all the ice cream, hooligans!"

In the afternoon we were back guarding the compound, and Collins went up to bed. We went out and chopped firewood, took showers, and began to cook dinner. The escorts went back with the scientists, Tim and a few others ventured to the Mart, and the second group of patrolmen were on patrol; leaving the compound to us.

"Flint," I said, and he looked surprised that I had said something, "What do _you _think the scientists are doing?"

He shrugged and leaned back on the floor, "Really don't know and really don't care."

Scoffing, I replied: "You have to care at least a little. It _is _the whole reason why we're here."

He paused. "Well…" he sat up to look at me, "They said something about a lake right?" I nodded. "My grandpappy once told Buck and me that there are three lakes in Sinnoh. They're somewhat hidden away naturally, but people were aware of them. No one would go there, though, because doing so would cause spiritual, physical, and emotional pain. Now they're blocked off because they're a danger, so people have forgotten about them, so says Pappy. That's all I remember…But hearing what these people have been saying about the lake, and how it causes such headaches, makes me think that it's one of _those _lakes, and the scientists are probably trying to figure out why they're…Well, making people go insane one way or another."

"That makes perfect sense," I said, not knowing what else to say. He nodded, and then went on to talk about how Pappy later went crazy and stole a Flaffy from a child before running away and disappearing with it forever. That child was Flint, and he'll always be scarred from that experience.

We went back to silence as we cooked up Magikarp and the vegetables the guards had bought from the Mart. The others returned, carrying a few fainted guards with them as they did.

"The lake?" Collins asked. He was sticking his head out of the loft and watching the guards enter.

"Yeah, the scientists are getting migraines from it too," Days answered, looking more exhausted than I had ever seen him.

Collins nodded. "I sent a letter to Pastoria requesting more guards the other day. We don't have enough to keep up with everything, especially when they start fainting. I'm glad I was able to see that and sent off a letter. The new group should show up any day now!" He was very proud of himself. His head disappeared; he was probably going to get more sleep.

After eating, Flint and I left for our round of patrolling alone. We looped around the town once before deciding to go back out to the gym. Flint tried the doors, but they wouldn't budge.

"Imagine if we could get in! Yo, we could battle!" His hand went to his pants pocket where he kept his Pokémon. "I haven't battled in…Over a year, probably. If you don't count that Abomosnow." His face fell. Mine did too. I couldn't remember my last real battle, and I felt guilty.

Unwanted thoughts crept into my mind. I really didn't want to think about my lack of battling, and how a few months ago my only goal in life was to battle. Why didn't I pursue training, instead of _this? _"Yeah…" I felt compelled to talk. I haven't tried to open that door of emotions, but now, it was time. "I just…Can't believe—"

"Zoey!" Flint exclaimed.

"What?!" I turned around, and Zoey was trekking towards us.

"Volkner! Flint!" she yelled, quite delightedly. She approached us. "Fancy seeing you two here again! What are you doing out here?"

"We could ask you the same," I retorted, and Flint elbowed me—hard—in the side.

"I think what he means is—" Flint began.

"Little Volkner here doesn't trust me," she waved her hand and smirked at me. She raised her eyebrows, "But I could change that."

"Little Volkner doesn't matter!" Flint pleaded, but Zoey's eyes were locked with mine, "'Cause I trust you. Besides…It's not that he _doesn't _trust you—"

"No, I don't trust her," I stated, not looking away from Zoey. She grinned, I frowned and drew together my eyebrows.

She threw back her head and laughed. Her hair tossed back, and her laughter seemingly echoed around. Flint started to laugh, too; but nervously. I stood still. She stopped laughing and said, "Well, I'm trustworthy, Volky."

Grimacing, I repeated: "Volky?"

"Volky," she confirmed, and grinned again. "Don't you want to know _why _I'm so trustworthy?"

"No," I countered.

"Yes!" Flint said, louder than me.

She smiled at him. "Because I'm the Gym Leader, and this," she motioned behind us, "is my gym."

"That doesn't make you trustworthy," I shrugged.

"Doesn't it in the eyes of Champion Lea? Isn't that important to _you?" _She said the last word pointedly, and her eyes flicked down to my uniform.

"_Head Commander Lea," _I replied spitefully, "doesn't care about gym leaders."

Her grin faded, but she nodded. "You're probably right. He doesn't care about many people."

"Hey now, disrespecting Lea can lead to punishment," I took a step closer to her, and then she took a step closer to me. She was practically against me. She looked up at me, since she stood at my chest, and had a clear, shining look of determination and amusement in her dark eyes.

"Do it, then. I _dare _you."

"Whoa," Flint stepped in-between us, knocking me away but staying close to Zoey. "Children play nice."

"Well _that's _no fun!" shouted Zoey.

"But that'll keep _all of us,"_ Flint gave me a look before continuing, "out of trouble."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, "we'll be getting in trouble anyways. Don't you understand?" Zoey perked up at this.

"Of course I do!" Flint answered, and then a mischievous look crossed his face. "And that's the best way to think about this! We'll be getting in trouble _anyways,_ so Zoey," he turned back to her, "let's be friends."

Face-palming, I murmured something about just wanting to patrol, and then Zoey said: "Is Volkner always this brutish?"

Flint shrugged. "Pretty much."

"What?" I scoffed. "That's not even true."

"Whatever you say, Volky," said Zoey, and then she giggled.

"You're kind of psychotic," I said, and she grinned.

"You'll learn to love it," she reached up and patted my head.

"I know I will," Flint interjected, and tried a charming smile. He failed, but it made her laugh.

"Anyways," she looked at the two of us before taking a step towards the gym, "want to see the inside?"

Flint and I looked at each. He grinned, and nodded vigorously. No matter how much I trusted—or didn't trust—Zoey, seeing the gym intrigued me for multiple reasons. I looked at her, smirked, and nodded. She kicked the door—hard—and it busted open. She led us inside.

* * *

We awoke early in the morning for patrol. Unfortunately, Collins was feeling better, and he kept us busy for the first hours of the day with many activities. Afterwards, we went back to the compound. On our way back it had stopped snowing, clearing up the skies a little and allowing us to see a group of flyers landing near the docks. "That must be them!" Commander Collins exclaimed, and his pace picked up. Flint and I looked at each other unknowingly. "The other guards!" Collins elaborated, and was attempting to run through the snow.

When we arrived, we saw the new guards hauling supplies into the sleep house. Collins could have squealed with excitement. We entered the warehouse that suddenly felt smaller with all the new additions.

"Ah, welcome!" Commander Collins greeted. "Commander Mason, you're always on top of things! You brought all the needed supplies! I knew asking you to arrive was a good idea!"

I froze when I heard that name. I turned towards the voices, and through a group of people I met eyes with Mason, who I had last seen at my own mother's funeral. I didn't know if I was happy to see him or not, but he was undoubtedly furious to see me.

* * *

Author's Note: Commander Collins' "delusional" accusation was a reference to something my dad wanted me to put in. If you know what it's referencing, you might amaze him.

So, I'm not totally pleased with this chapter. It's not my best writing, and I don't like the progression of it. But the things needed to happen, and I didn't know how to write it any other way. Advice is appreciated! I will edit and rewrite this chapter; but currently, I have no idea how to improve it. I'm hoping you all could help.

Also, I'm doing something just a little differently. The beginning of the next chapter will start with Volkner/Flint/Zoey entering the gym, and then continuing with Mason's arrival. Expect the next chapter to be much, much better.

It looks like I won't complete this months Cynthia's Letters addition, but I still have over a week, so I'll try to get it done and out there. I'm unofficially updated that monthly. And! I have a Kingdom Heart's one-shot in the works! I'm really excited!

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even with its faults.

*Zoey is my OC. She is not the Zoey that is Dawn's rival, and the gym leaders are different since this story is based in the past.


	18. Intruder

_Chapter Seventeen: Intruder_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

"Wait here," Zoey motioned with her hand and then disappeared from the light peering in from the open door. Moments later, the gym lit up, revealing a large battlefield made completely of ice. She was all the way across the room, poking buttons on a control panel, and then I felt a rush of warmth come across my semi-frozen body. The warm air smelled old and musky.

"The gym is heated?" I yelled over to her.

"Yeah, it's one of the only buildings in Snowpoint that has both electricity and heat. This, the Center and Mart are the only ones. Luckily," she walked—glided—across the room, "the houses have running water now, so we're a little more modernized."

"How do you all not freeze to death?!" Flint asked.

"Large fireplaces and cleverly built homes," she stated proudly.

Taking a step forward, I nearly fell; the ice was very slippery. "Won't the heat melt the ice?"

"It's NeverMeltIce," she gave me a dubious look and then followed it with: "Duh."

"Yeah, duh," Flint added, and then tried to walk over to Zoey. He wavered a bit, but was much more confident about walking than I was. "So Zoey, want to battle?" He asked.

She made a face. "How about, you two battle, and then I'll take on the winner." She grinned.

"Deal," I said, and started shuffling my feet to one side of the battlefield.

"Yo, I'm 'bout to bring the heat to this icy wonderland!" Flint exclaimed, as he took his place on the opposing side. "One Pokémon each, right?"

"Right," I agreed, and released Pikachu. He released Monferno.

He started barking off attacks and Monferno didn't miss a beat. He was obviously taking advantage of the fact it had been a while since I battled by exploding in hits. Once I grasped what was happening, I watched intently as Monferno used Ember followed by Mach Punch. I called out Quick Attack, and Pikachu leapt into action. "Thunder Shock!" I yelled, but Monferno was scratching, clawing and even throwing in swipes from his flaming tail. Pikachu growled and screamed, and then after an explosion of electricity, Monferno appeared paralyzed. He tackled the opponent, and then I commanded Electro Ball. He performed the move quickly—probably the quickest ever—and the Monferno twitched from the electrocution. "Again!" He used Electro Ball once more, and finished off Monferno. Flint returned him.

"You may have brought the heat, but I brought the static," I grinned, and Zoey laughed and cheered.

"Well fought!" she squealed, and ran over to me; expertly gliding across the ice. "But are you ready for the storm?" She raised her eyebrows at me and moved her shoulders playfully.

"Those sound like fighting words," I said, and grinned at her.

She smiled sweetly. "Not fighting words," she cooed, and then she gave me a look of sheer determination as she narrowed her eyes, "it's a challenge." She glided away and towards Flint. "One Pokémon battle! Let's go, Jynx!"

"Wait, my Pikachu isn't healed—"

She released her Jynx—which was the ugliest Pokémon I ever laid eyes on—and shouted: "Confusion!" Jynx made a disturbing noise. It sounded like a human laugh, so much so, it made me pause. Jynx were creepy.

The next thing I knew, Pikachu was dizzily falling over. "Quick Attack," I tried, but it was to no avail.

"Ice Punch," Zoey said, with a hint of amusement in her tone. We met eyes, she was staring at me, smirking, and didn't even watch as her Pokémon glided across the ice at lightning speed and wailed on my Pokémon, causing him to faint instantly. "There's a reason why this is my gym!" She exclaimed and returned her Pokémon.

"Yeah, whatever. Next time, let me heal first!" I said, and then chuckled.

"Hey!" she skated over, Flint following at her heels, "The next time we battle," she got really close and pointed her finger right in my face, "will be when you challenge the gym." She laughed, and at first I grinned; but then I quickly realized how that wasn't a possibility.

"Well, if I ever challenge you, my Pokémon will be ready to destroy you," I said it very half-heartedly, and then turned towards the door.

"Volkner," she reached out and grabbed my arm. I turned back towards her. "Since I won, I think I deserve an answer to a question."

Frowning, I replied: "Zoey, we already told you that we aren't allowed to talk about Callousen business."

She hung her head and sighed. "Fine," she said.

"Why are you so curious, anyways?" Flint wondered.

She shrugged and looked up at him. "I have a curious nature. And being the gym leader here is boring. Especially when there hasn't been a trainer step up to the plate in years. In fact, I've never had a challenger, and I've been the gym leader since I was ten. That's five years of boredom."

"That's a little young, isn't it?" I asked.

"Well, things are done a little differently in Snowpoint. My family, the Xenhart's, has always been the gym leader here. When the current gym leader is ready to retire, he chooses another Xenhart to take his place. When Zaïre, my uncle, was ready to give up the title, he gave it to me, even though I was only ten. The townspeople respected his decision, and treated me with the same respect." She shrugged. "We're weird."

"Yeah, you got that right," Flint muttered, "We never see anyone around the town. Homebodies, much?"

"Not really," she said, defensively, "we don't necessarily have a lot of job opportunities here, but we all do different things to help the community as a whole. Everyone does something every day to help the town and help the people of the town. When something needs done, a group of people gets together instantly and makes it happen—with no expectations of pay or anything! But…Yeah, the people haven't been around much because they don't understand why you all are here, and they're worried for war."

"War?!" Flint laughed, "That's ridiculous. We're not here for war! We just escorted some important science guys!"

"But for what reason?! Why are they disturbing the Sacred City if it's not for war?" she pleaded, and looked between the two of us.

"Listen," I tried to say calmly, "we don't even know what they're out there researching or if they're even researching. We're not allowed to know, and neither are you. I'm sorry. But I can assure you it's nothing that has to do with war."

Zoey crossed her arms over her chest. "How can you assure me of that, if you don't even know for yourself?"

We were silent. "I think it's time to leave," said Flint. If Flint thought it was time to go, it must have been time to go. "We'll be seeing you, Zoey," he added, and we shuffled over to the door. She didn't reply, and we left.

* * *

Back at the compound, the warehouse was filling up with guards and supplies. We had to expand to the second smaller warehouse nearby, also enclosed in the chain-link fence that wrapped around the small area, and some of the guards made camp there. We were all asking the guards about what was happening "out there," and they replied with uninteresting stories and comments about the great things Lea was doing.

Mason and I were avoiding each other for reasons I wasn't sure of. All I understood was he didn't want to see me, and frankly, I didn't want to see him. Every time I got a glimpse of him, I thought of Fyn, or Rayne, or worse, my mom; and I didn't like thinking about that. I liked only worrying about what was expected of me next, not about things of the past.

The guards also brought things from the training room, because Collins explained that we had become sloppy, and because Flint and I were his experimental hooligans we were put to training. That consisted of weightlifting, running, knife throwing at trees, and combat training on each other. We were very excited to punch each other in the face, but the aftereffect wasn't pleasant. What was expected of me next wasn't much better than thinking about things of the past; however it didn't waste as much time.

Collins sickness had, unfortunately, taken a turn for the better after the new guards had shown up with pain killers and a flask filled with something that made him extra loud and obnoxious. After a few hours of being pushed through training filled with Commander Collins' brand of physical punishment and verbal abuse, he crashed on the floor, leaving Flint and I bruised, sore, and with the urge to kick him while he was passed out.

Commander Days issued new jobs for everyone, giving the current escorts a break from the lake, and giving that job to the new guards. Flint and I were still patrolmen, but we were Group Three, which meant we would no longer be patrolling with Collins.

The next few days passed quickly, but with little ease. The new guards, all from Pastoria, were as harsh and strict as the others had been. Now we not only had Collins critiquing us, but the new guards would critique us as well. They would grab us by our collars and shake us, telling us how improper we were being, and how we needed to compose ourselves as Callousen. They harped on Days, asking how he could let imbeciles through The Shadows, and how all of us needed to be sent to the League instead of being accepted. Days didn't let it get to him, but I did. Flint was indifferent about it, but I didn't speak to him much to know for certain. We went through the motions of our duties every day, diligently, and we became afraid of not only Commander Collins, but these new guards. Including Commander Mason, who still avoided me, but I saw some of the things he did to the other young guards.

Was I really so inadequate to be a guard? Why did all the others think they were better than I was? I tried to cut and carry the most firewood, volunteer for the most duties, and take the most night shifts; but it seemingly didn't matter, and only led to me being overworked and very, very tired all of the time.

Finally, Mason and I interacted. It was on accident. I had walked out of the warehouse to go to the firewood pile we kept in a hole made in the snow and ice, only to find Mason there too. We were alone, and we just looked at each other. I considered leaving and coming back later, but he walked up to me, grabbed my arm, yanked me closer and muttered: "Don't tell anyone that you know who I am, or especially that we're related, or about me being at Emily's funeral. All right?" I nodded, and he let go of me, grabbed some firewood, and left.

* * *

"Volkner," Days had said, as soon as I walked in from my round of patrol.

"Yeah Commander?"

"I need you to go out and round up some guards from the other warehouse and tell them I need to speak to them," he said, and I nodded and turned around to leave.

_Finally, Days is seeing me as some sort of authority, _I thought, and in my drowsiness I felt somewhat accomplished. I walked out of the warehouse and towards the smaller one. It was near the tree line, and as I approached the warehouse, I heard what sounded like rattling branches.

Looking up at the trees, I noticed one wasn't snowcapped; the snow had been knocked down, possibly due to something being on the tree shaking it. I walked towards it, and as I did, the tree rattled again—and then the one behind it rattled, and the thought of an intruder getting away startled me into action. I ran towards the trees, only to meet the chain link fence inside. "Crap!" I whispered, and began climbing over as quickly as I could. It wasn't easy, it was covered in icicles, and I slipped and fell to the ground on the other side. Luckily the hard ice and snow broke my fall, and I was on my feet following the noises of the rustling trees.

_What if this is just a Pokémon? _I thought, but I dismissed this—if it was a Pokémon, Collins would have scared it away shooting someone's foot.

My adrenaline pumped. I wasn't even concerned about my soreness, or how far I was running, I just ran. Eventually the rustling stopped, and I came to a halt. Desperately, I searched the trees, but the setting sun didn't help. "Show yourself!" I growled, not expecting that to work.

But it did.

Someone bounded from the treetop and landed, very agile and gracefully, in front of me. I grabbed her shoulders. "Zoey!" I yelled, right in her face. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Well I had to stop running," she stated calmly, "I didn't want to lead you to my house, you haven't even bought me dinner yet."

"Not _that," _I shouted, then continued: "Do you realize that if someone else caught you, you would be in _very big trouble. _Depending on who, you might not even get to live. Seriously Zoey, you're more trouble than you're worth."

"That's not true," she laughed, and wriggled out of my grip.

"Zoey, don't laugh!" I scolded her, and she laughed again. "Why were you spying on us?!"

She became serious. "I'll answer your questions when you answer mine!"

"I should take you to my commanders! I will unless you tell me what you were doing!"

She sighed. "I've been spying on you all for the past few days. I saw _more _of you show up that day we were at the gym, and it made me—and my piers—very worried. I told them I would check it out. So far, it doesn't seem very good. I've seen you guys train, and it's like you're gearing up for war."

"That's not it Zoey, we've told you," I said. "It's safer for everyone if you just stay away."

Ignoring my last sentence, she went on to say: "Then where are the scientists researching?"

"I don't think—"

"I said," she interrupted, "where are the scientists researching? If you tell me, I won't be poking around the loading docks and warehouses anymore. I promise."

"Zoey," I paused, "if I tell you and you get caught, you'll end up getting hurt."

"So?" she shrugged, "Why do you care? Tell me and I'll get out of your hair. At least tell me what they're doing out there, and don't tell me you don't know."

"Honestly, I'm not sure what they're doing. From what I've heard, they're at some lake, and they're trying to find out why it causes people to faint and get headaches, but that's just been speculation from Flint."

"Aren't you curious?" she asked.

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then come with me."

"What?" I took a step back.

"Come with me to the lake. They can't be doing anything good there, and I have to find out."

I shook my head. "I can't do that. They'll kill me," suddenly I realized how long I had been gone. "In fact, I have to get back now." I started walking away.

She followed. "If you're so concerned about my safety, go with me. Be my body guard. I could probably use some help, anyways."

"Help with what? Creepily watching my colleagues from a tree? I don't even know how to climb trees, much less run through them!" I stopped, only long enough to look at her and ask: "By the way, how are you so good at that? And you're kind of freakishly strong for a tiny girl."

"I'm not tiny!" she whined. "And I need help putting a stop to whatever's going on. It'll be subtle, and they'll never know you were my accomplice."

"I think that goes against my Callousen rulebook to help you."

"Even if they never find out?" she questioned.

"I couldn't pull it off. I can't just disappear."

"Get Flint to help," she said, and we neared the chain link fence. "In fact, I think I'll take Flint instead. He'd be willing to help. He's not such a stickler for the rules. And he likes me."

"That last part is true, but I am not a stickler for the rules."

"Prove it," she challenged, and put her hands on her hips. "Tomorrow, I'll be in this tree," she pointed over her head, "and if you want to join me and finally learn what's going on here, meet me before the escorts leave. Deal?"

"This is a bad idea," I said as I hoisted myself over the fence, "but those are the best kind. Deal." She reached her little hand through the fence, and we shook on it.

Walking back out of the trees, Flint was standing nearby. He saw me. "Holy crap! Where have you been?! Days was wondering what you did, and I had to cover for you!"

I patted his shoulder. "Thank you. I heard someone in the trees, and I chased them into the forest."

"No way!"

"Yeah, and it was Zoey." I told him about her plan, and he agreed that it was a horrible idea; but he said he wouldn't let me not do it.

"I'll do whatever it takes to cover for you. Just be safe, don't get caught, and find out what's going on," said Flint. I nodded, and we went inside.

The next morning arrived, and Flint and I were up with the first group of patrolmen. The escorts weren't awake yet, so it was a waiting game. Unfortunately, Collins was, and he was up all night fishing, so he wasn't in a good mood. Instead of sleeping, he put Flint and I to work training without allowing us breakfast. We had to fight each other, and Flint was purposely going easy on me, just in case I would need my strength later. Collins picked up on it.

"Let him have it, Rodent!" he bellowed, and grabbed Flint's arm. He yanked him to the ground, and then punched me as hard as he could in the side of my head. I fell unto the snow, and I felt my nose start to bleed, which was alarming. "Enough for now, but tomorrow, I better see you trying to _kill _the other, Guards." He stalked back into the warehouse. Flint helped me to my feet, and I felt dizzy and disoriented.

"Yo, are you okay?"

"I think so. I just, I…" I coughed, and the blood from my nose splattered on me. "I need to clean up." I muttered, and he led me inside. After a quick shower and a fresh shirt, we were back outside for patrol. My head pounded. I tried to ignore it, but it wasn't successful.

While patrolling we split up into groups of three. It was Flint, me, and some other guard who continually criticized our march. While patrolling, I saw them: The escorts, they were leaving for the lake early today. Flint and I exchanged glances, but there was nothing we could do, and we knew that.

My heart fell, and when we marched back to the compound, Flint pulled me to the back of the warehouse. "You don't think she would have waited for you, do you?" he asked.

I scoffed, "No! She's long gone, probably getting caught, but why do I care?" I shrugged, and crossed my arms.

"Because she's Zoey, and she's hot and mysterious," he laughed, but I didn't. "Oh come on Volk, it's not a big deal."

"What are we even _doing here? _We've been miserable in Snowpoint since the very first day, and no one will tell us what we're actually doing here!" I said, and put a hand on my forehead. I could feel it pulsing with pain. "So, yeah, it was kind of a big deal."

"But it's not. What if we did find out what was going on? What if it was exactly what they say? Just research? Then we'd still be here until they're done and it doesn't matter. And if you subtly sabotage them, we'd be here even longer probably."

"I just wanted to know," I muttered.

"Yeah well, me too Bro, but it just doesn't matter. We'll continue being miserable wherever we are."

"What are we doing here?" I repeated, and looked at him.

"We'll figure it out from Zoey—"

"No, not in Snowpoint, in the Callousen. What are we doing here?"

"Yo, you can't let yourself think stuff like that—"

"Flint, you can't live life not thinking about things and not caring about things. You use to care about everything! You cared about Pokémon and battling and your family! Now you don't care about how you spend your day or, anything!"

He paused. He had so much anger in his eyes. "I don't need to stand here and listen to you tell me how to live my life, Volkner. You're not the same little boy you were, either, so before you start talking to me like you're the queen, why don't you check your cards?" His eyebrows drew together, "And don't ever mention my family again," he growled between clenched teeth.

"So that's it? You're going to take this crap life forever?"

"Yeah, and so are you," he jabbed a finger on my chest, "because this is what we signed up for."

I slapped his finger away and pushed my hands against his chest, making him stumble backwards. "I didn't sign up for _this. _I signed up to be a powerful guard. Instead, I'm treated like lowlife! I'm not a newbie anymore!"

"Imagine how I feel?! I've been a part of this for over a year!" Flint yelled.

My head throbbed due to his yelling. "Ouch, Flint!" I complained.

He pulled his carton of cigarettes from his pocket and pulled the last one out. "You need this," he handed it to me, "and I'm going to let you have it so you stop being a whiney loser." I grabbed it, and brought it to my face; a bit unsure. He flipped open his lighter, and I felt the warmth on my face as he lit it. I could taste it in my mouth, and I wanted to rethink my decision—but then I didn't want to. I wanted to do this, even though I knew the harm it would put on my body. I was angry and tired, and in some sadistic part of me, wanted to hurt myself. I breathed in, feeling the chemicals and smoke travel down into my lungs, causing me to erupt in coughs and hacks.

"This is gross," I finally said, with smoke curling out of my mouth, but I realized it had eased my headache. "How do you"—I coughed—"do this?"

"You get used to it. Same with the Callousen. You just get used to it." He leaned against the back of the warehouse. I did the same.

"That's why you don't care, because you just got used to it?" I said, while I was examining the cigarette. I took another drag. It felt like my lungs had been wrapped in a warm blanket. It was comforting, but that went away when the blanket turned into ash and I coughed uncontrollably.

"Feel better?" he asked, ignoring my question. I nodded, unable to speak because of my coughing. "Then I'll take this. I won't let you waste it." He held his hand out, and I put the cigarette between his fingers. "Yeah, that's why I don't care." He finally answered, half-heartedly. "After such a long time of being away from real life, you lose sight of those things. It's like you become brainwashed but…You do it to yourself, willingly, and that confuses the crap out of you."

"You can't blame anyone but yourself." I muttered.

"And if you start doing that," he added, "you drive yourself insane…It's better to not care. It's better to not think." He looked at me, "Right, Whiney Loser?"

Frowning, I replied: "I still wouldn't say that." He gave me a look. I sighed, "Right, Redheaded Rodent."

"It's not so bad," Flint said as he finished his last cigarette.

"What is?"

"Here. The Callousen. We've just hit a rough spot."

"Flint, I think the rest of this path is a rough spot."

He shrugged, and looked longingly down at the remains of his cigarette in the snow.

"What would you do if you were able to choose another path?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I don't even know Volk. I've been away from the real world for so long, it would take me the rest of my life to get used to it again. I wouldn't have time to choose another path. This is my path."

I looked towards the sky. It had started snowing. "How did we even get here?"

"Jeck," he answered, "he gets everyone here. He gets poor saps to agree to his marvelous deal and then they get locked in. Locked in, or shipped out, if you know what I mean." I did know. He meant shipped to the League, where they lived a life somehow worse than this, and then they die.

"How did he get you here?" I wondered.

"Well…I had just graduated. I was at the gym battling Trifler. I won, because he sucks and I'm awesome, and I was on my way back home. You know that we live in an apartment above one of the shops near the marketplace, so I was walking through it, Pokéball in-hand, tossing it up and then catching it. Jeck approached me, asking if I was one of the trainers who just graduated. I said yes, and he was asking me questions about it. My egotistical self bought right into his questions and his compliments. He was asking me about my future plans. When I was hesitant and didn't have answers, he said all the right things. Next thing I knew, we were surrounded by guards in an alley, and he was telling me about the Callousen and how they need good battlers and fighters on their side, for the betterment of Sinnoh. How Champion Lea takes pride in his guard force, and everyone in it. I was sold. I'm pretty sure by the end, he wasn't asking me if I wanted to join, I was asking him how to join." He didn't look at me, and I didn't look at him. "How'd he get you?"

"Very similarly…Except I wanted to use it as a great escape. I wanted to be needed and respected, and that's what I thought I would get. All while leaving my problems behind."

"And did you?" He asked. It started to snow harder, and the wind blew against us. We started walking back towards the door. Commander Mason was standing outside with a group of guards, they all were headed inside.

"Nope," I said, meeting eyes with Mason.

* * *

I lay in the loft with sleeping guards surrounding me. I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about Zoey, and if she was okay. The thought didn't bother me until then, and I didn't understand why I was so bothered, but I was.

I was up, crawling out of the loft. There were a few half-asleep guards who paid no mind to me as I left. As soon as I was out in the windy cold, I didn't know where to go. I looked towards the trees. It had just snow stormed, but one of the trees wasn't snowcapped. I smirked. "Zoey?" I called, but there was no reply. Even though she wasn't there, I knew she was okay—and that she was horrible at keeping promises. But she was okay, and that's what was important.

* * *

Authors Note: I do not promote smoking. It's very addictive and harmful for your bodies. I don't smoke, nor do I want to.

In other news, I really like this chapter. Most of the next is written too, and I like that one a lot! I'm really excited.

Thanks for reading, I hope everything is going well with you all. Everything is alright here. I'm job hunting (ish) annndddd that's not going very well. Thanks CVS for not calling me like you said you would. You're cool. Maybe I should apply to Rite Aid instead.


	19. Daydreaming

_Chapter Eighteen: Daydreaming_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

Zoey

_What did I just do? _

The brisk air cut through my nose as I ran. It wasn't anything I wasn't used to. After one lifetime of living in Snowpoint and years of training in the roughest weather it could throw at me, I could deal with the intensely cold air filling my lungs. In fact, it was refreshing. Like a dip into a cold pond on a hot summer day. Except I had never experienced a hot summer day, and going into a pond in Snowpoint resulted in death, so maybe not so much.

Crawling out of the tree, I could see the escorts walking towards the Sacred Lake. _I should wait for Volkner, _I was thinking, looking longingly back towards the chain-link fence. _There's no time, I was stood up, face it Zoey, _I thought something my cousin would have told me in this instance to influence me to continue pursuing the escorts and scientists. I seemed to have forgotten that my stubbornness to do exactly the opposite that my negative, realist cousin Zinnia would have said was strong and I had the intense urge to follow my heart and wait for Volkner.

"Maybe I really am as immature as she tells me I am," I muttered, and then shrugged; oh well. I knew what was right for me, and that was letting my heart lead me.

But this time, I couldn't let Snowpoint down because of my heart and semi-admitted crush on a boy. So I followed them through town. Indeed, they were at the Sacred Lake. I had only been there three times before with my family. Every four years, the elders choose a large group of us to take out to the Lake for a day of meditation. I was chosen every time throughout my life, something that most of my family can't say for themselves. I have always been the favorite. Another thing no one else can say for themselves.

This day of meditation lasted as long as the people could stand it, because the Sacred Lake has supernatural boundaries and gives you headaches if your mind is in the wrong place. So says ancient Snowpoint writings, at least. But the real meaning behind it is unknown. The elders say a lot of things and tell a lot of stories, but I can't say I believe those myths.

Except for the quadrennial day of meditation, no one went there because they fear the Sacred Lake. When you're there, you feel a presence lingering with you, like the lake is a being itself; a lot of people are convinced that it _is _a being. It's been referred to as _Bytí_ in the most ancient writing, meaning: The Being. That, oddly enough, scared people into staying away. Except for my crazy family, instead we made a sacred holiday out of it, all for the purpose of hoping that meditating there would give us knowledge; another myth I choose not to believe.

Even so, I couldn't tell exactly what the scientists were doing. They were holding what appeared to be a satellite dish, and were going out on the lake in a small boat. I sat behind some brush near the lake and watched for quite a while. My head started to pound, but I tried to keep a clear mind, just as I was taught. It appeared that the scientists were just researching, or possibly looking for something, or both. Maybe Volkner was right, there's no war going on.

While getting ready to leave the lake and head back into town, I heard footsteps stomping through the snow. I looked over, and there was a big guard trekking towards me with an angry look on his face. As he approached, I stood up calmly. "Listen, Sir," I began, "I mean no harm and I was just leaving."

"Just leaving? It looked to me like you were _spying," _he began to reach for me. I hit his arm with mine, and then kicked him in the stomach; sending him backwards and into the snow. I took off, and into the closest tree. I ran across the snow covered branches as quickly as I could, until I was certain I was far away. I jumped out, and headed for the back of the town.

Nearing the temple, a few of my family members stood outside, waiting for my return.

"Zoey," Zaïre, my uncle, said, "how did it go?"

"I followed them out to the Sacred Lake, it doesn't appear that anything fishy is going on there, except for research. They may be looking for something, because they took a small boat out into the lake." I answered.

"Looking for something in the Sacred Lake? That _does_ sound fishy." Zanna, my older sister, corrected.

"I don't think it is, though," I said.

"Because you're beginning to trust them too much!" she yelled.

Zaïre nodded. "I'm afraid that's happening, Zoey. You're spending a lot of time around them. Not only is it incredibly dangerous, you're mingling with the enemy."

I scoffed, "It's not dangerous, and they're not our enemy. They have the same goals in mind that we do, protect Sinnoh."

"_No, _that's not our goal!" Zanna threw her hands into the air, "It's like you're not even a Guardian!"

Frowning, I yelled: "I'm more of a Guardian than _you—" _

"Don't," Zaïre scolded, and then looked at me. "You know that we care first and foremost for Snowpoint. Sinnoh isn't our priority, and it's not theirs either. Their priority is Lea, and Lea's priority is Lea. If we leave them alone, they will eventually leave. If they threaten Snowpoint, that's when we step in. Otherwise, I think you need to stop going down there. Give them their space. You said this is temporary for them, and they aren't causing harm, right?"

"Right," I said, but then guilt swelled in my chest, "…Except I was caught at the lake."

"You were what?!" Zanna screeched.

"It wasn't a big deal, nothing happened, I fought him off—easily—and then made my escape." I shrugged.

"Then you should definitely stay away," Zaïre added.

"No," I said, quickly. I paused, wondering why I objected. "I could still figure out more things. I could get more information. Let me do this! Let me prove to everyone that you," I pointed to Zaïre, "didn't make a bad choice choosing me as the gym leader."

He thought for a moment. "Fine. You're responsible enough to make your own decisions."

"She _is not," _Zanna chided, "she only wants to go back down there because of that boy! She always goes for the bad, rebellious guy."

"Zanna!" Zaïre snapped. "Zoey knows better than that, don't you, Zoe?"

Nodding, I replied: "Of course I do!" I turned and started to walk away. "Besides, he doesn't like me back, yet!" I yelled, and I could hear Zaïre face-palming and Zanna shrieking her disapproval behind my back.

Back in the trees, it had started to snowstorm. My view on the compound became unclear. I hadn't seen anything suspicious going on, but let's face it: I was only there to look for Volkner, and ask him why he didn't show up. After some time of sitting there while it started to blizzard, I left.

* * *

The next day, I wandered into the town; wary of whom was on patrol. I didn't recognize any of the patrolmen as my attacker, so I assumed it was safe. My search for Volkner continued in the trees. I peered down from my secluded hiding spot at all the guardsmen coming and going. Finally, Volkner was in-sight, walking towards the hole where they keep their firewood. Impulsively, I leapt out of the tree, clearing the fence and landing on my feet.

He turned and saw me. His eyebrows were drawn-together, and his jaw was clenched; his normal look of seriousness and brutishness. He raised his eyebrow at me, looking just slightly amused, but then sighed and said: "You know this is _really _dangerous, right? You're trouble."

I smirked. "I do this at the face of danger," I stuck my tongue out, "and I _am_ trouble. But I'm also adorable." I cupped my hand on his face. "_Volky," _I added, and he groaned and moved my hand.

"What do you want Zoey? You need to leave, if—"

"Wow, it really sounds like you don't want me here," I murmured, and rolled my eyes. He frowned harder. "I just wanted to know why you stood me up. I thought you wanted to know what they were doing."

"I didn't stand you up. I couldn't leave my patrol." He said.

I waved my hand, "Excuses, excuses. _Well,_" I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and started to lead him towards the back of the warehouse, for more seclusion, "it seems like they're looking for something. They took a boat out on the lake and circled it around a few certain spots with what appeared to be a satellite dish pointed at the water."

"A satellite dish? That seems unlikely."

Shrugging, I replied, "I don't know these things! This is why I needed you." I sighed dramatically, and he crossed his arms and gave me a look.

"Didn't you promise to stay away? Are you breaking your promise? I thought you were better than that."

"Thanks!" I chirped. He cocked his head at me. "For saying you thought I was better than that," I gave him a thumbs-up of approval. "Anyways, so you're saying I need to figure out what that satellite dish actually was?"

"Well that would probably help," he muttered.

"But I won't have any clue what it is if I saw it. I live in Snowpoint. We're not exactly the most modern place. The most technologically advanced thing we have is in the Center, and no one knows how it works. We just press the on button." I waved my hand again. "I digress. So, you should come with me."

"Go with you? Where?" he asked.

"To the Center, where the scientists are staying. We'll break into their room and see what that thing is," I stated, obviously. "We'll wait for them to leave and we'll make our move."

"That's impossible. There's no way you could do that. The only time they leave is to go to the lake."

"And the mart," I added. "Here's what will happen…I'll work at the Center for a few days, in place of my sister. I'll find out what time they leave without their equipment. Then, I'll let you know, and we can break into their rooms, find the thingy, and save the world."

He paused, staring at me, and trying to stifle a smile. "That's quite the to-do list."

"And?" I requested.

"And…It might work."

"Great! Your only job is to figure out how to get away long enough to help me out. Alright?"

He sighed and looked down at his feet. "Fine, I'll figure it out." I squealed excitedly, and he placed his hands over my mouth. "You need to leave," he tried to stay serious, but a laugh escaped at the end of that sentence. I grinned under his hands, and he smiled back. He moved his hands from over my mouth to the sides of my face, and looked me right in the eyes. His eyes were blue, bluer than the Sacred Lake, and filled with, what I assumed, years of sadness; but somewhere in them, I could see true happiness. "Stay away from here, Zoey," he commanded. I nodded, and with that, we departed; we both began to put our plan into action.

Volkner

My plan of distracting the guards so I could get away with Zoey didn't roll with Flint. More accurately, he said it was stupid, hit my shoulder, and then told me to think simpler. "Just lie," he said, aggravated after hearing my outrageous ideas. And that's what we did. A few days later, Flint had found a letter dangling from a string on Zoey's favored tree. It said that she had been working at the Center and saw the scientists leave around dinnertime every day for nearly two hours. She told me to meet her there the next day, and we were ready.

For the past couple of days we began lying to our commanders. It was nerve-wracking, but it was working. When it came time for patrol, Flint would leave, telling our fellow guards that Collins wanted me to stay. By the time patrol left, Collins was sleeping from being up most of the night fishing and whatever else he did. When Commander Days would wonder why I didn't leave off, I told him Collins wanted me to train in the second warehouse, and I would go hideout over there. No one ever questioned Collins and Collins never knew about it. So when the day came for me to meet Zoey at the Center, everything felt perfect, and everything fell into place.

It was dark and snowy, even though it was probably only four in the afternoon. I climbed over the fence and walked in the direction I thought was towards town. It was, and I saw the glow from the Center. I kept an eye out for any fellow guards, but none were around, and I entered the Center with no problems. Everything was working out.

Zoey sat behind the counter. She grinned and jumped up when she saw me, and then launched herself over the counter. She wore a pink pinstriped dress with an apron, and the nurse's hat that kept sliding around her head as she moved. The nurse's uniform never looked so out of place on anyone until now. "You made it!" she exclaimed. I looked around, the lobby was empty.

"I made it," I spoke, not knowing what else to say.

She walked up to me and touched my arm, "Nervous?"

"No," I lied.

"Good!" she reached into the pocket of her apron. I couldn't help but laugh. Her getup looked even more ridiculous up close. "Don't talk about it," she murmured, clearly unamused.

"Talk about what? How this," I poked the puffy sleeve of her dress, "is enough space to safely secure Pokémon eggs while you wait for them to hatch? Or how all the pink in your dress really brings out the color of your cheeks right now?"

She was glaring at me with her cheeks blazing. "_Shut. Up." _

"I didn't know you'd even wear pink. I thought black was your color. Black clothes, black hair—with a few white streaks—and black eyes, you're the picture of teenage angst."

She groaned, and grabbed the skirt of her dress in fistfuls and yanked it upwards. I turned my head and shielded my eyes in surprise. "Calm down!" she scolded, and I looked at her. She was fully clothed in black pants and a black tank top. "Now can we focus on our mission?" She tossed the uniform to the side and held up a key. "This is their room key, ready?"

"Zoey," I said, holding back a laugh.

"What is it now?" She rolled her eyes.

Her hat was completely on the side of her head, somehow still attached to her chin-length hair. "You forgot one thing," I pointed to the hat, and she groaned again and ripped it off.

"Let's go," she grabbed my hand and led me towards the hallway. She quickly opened the door and flipped on the light. The room held two beds, a television, a couch, and an adjacent bathroom. The room was filled with suitcases, equipment, and books.

"Do any of these _things," _I approached the coffee table filled with tools and equipment, "look familiar?" She shook her head as she began to unzip a suitcase. "Uh, I don't think it's necessary to go through their clothes."

She raised her head and looked at me. "What if they have a journal telling of all their scientific finds? They won't just leave that lying about."

Looking around, I spotted a notebook sitting on the couch. I grabbed it and lifted it up, "Like this?" She halted rifling through the clothes. I opened the notebook. "Well, there's a shopping list, and then pages filled with Fushigidane scores and stats."

"So we learned that the scientists play a lot of cards. Good." She said sarcastically. "So I suppose they wouldn't keep a journal telling us everything we need to know."

"Nor would we learn everything we need to know by looking through their unmentionables," I added. She sighed and zipped up the suitcase.

We walked around the room, examining all of the equipment. "What are these things?" she pointed to a grouping of photography supplies.

"Those two things are cameras—really nice cameras—and the rest are tripods, lenses, and a lot of other professional photography supplies."

Zoey put her hand to her chin as she thought. "I think I saw one of the scientists set these up the other day. Do you think they were taking photos of the lake?"

Something dawned on me. "These are video cameras. They were taking videos. Here," I reached for one and flipped open the side, revealing a screen attached to the camera, "look." She came to my side. I pressed a button, and the screen lit up, showing the scientists at the lake. A pair was close to the camera, discussing something about Psyduck and their attraction to the lake. They said they feel as though their attraction to it comes from their Psychic side. The two scientists approached the lake, satellite dish in-hand, and got into the boat. They left off. We watched for a few minutes as they circled around the lake. I pressed another button and sped up the video. I stopped it when they exited the lake and approached the camera.

"There's definitely no cavern out there. My radar that I made," he held up the satellite dish, "couldn't find any Psychic Type wavelengths anywhere. If this Physic Type Pokémon is as powerful as Champion Lea said, it would be radiating like crazy!"

One of the other scientists shook his head, "Psychic Types don't work that way."

"But they do!" the other shouted excitedly, "I tested this out in Jubilife with many different Psychic Types!" He held up his radar proudly.

"Okay," the scientist said, with a tone of disbelief, "let's say that this wonderful invention works. Does that mean the Pokémon isn't here?" He touched his head, "And if the Pokémon _isn't _here, why am I getting an intense headache?"

"Well, I—"

The recording shut off. That was all that was recorded. Zoey grabbed the other camera, but there was nothing on it. "They must have taken out the other recordings. They might have put the information on a computer, or something. They probably have that kind of technology."

"Or they sent it to Lea," Zoey suggested.

"That would make sense. It would be proof that they were making discoveries and working, or something. That would make sense as to why they didn't want to send this," I put the camera back.

"Because that makes them look bad?" she questioned. I nodded. "Okay…" she sat down on the couch. It looked like her mind was racing. "They're looking for a Pokémon."

"And a cavern, they said," I joined her.

She laughed, humorlessly, and put her face in her hands. "I thought I knew everything about Snowpoint, but I've never heard of a cavern at the Sacred Lake or a Pokémon."

"Well it seems like they're not finding anything. They must be wrong."

She sat up suddenly, "Maybe, but I can't wait around for them to decide they haven't found anything or they actually find something and catch us by surprise."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, fearing the worst.

She stood up and started for the door. I hastily followed. "We're going to the Elders house."

"Where?" We walked back out to the lobby. She grabbed her coat and gloves from the closet and replaced it with the uniform on the floor.

"All the Elders of my family live in this secluded cabin across town. They keep some ancient books there. If we want to learn about the Sacred Lake, that's how we would do it," she said determinedly.

We went back out into the cold and started our trek across town. "Are you sure you don't want to go alone?" I asked her.

She turned around and grinned at me, "Scared about meeting my family? Don't worry Volky, this isn't the first time I brought a boy home." She laughed. Her laugh was loud and sing-songlike. I smiled.

We approached a large cabin I hadn't seen during all of my patrols. Smoke was billowing out of both chimneys, and light peering out of all windows. She walked up to the door and then turned towards me. "Don't say much, I'll do all the talking. Okay? You'll be fine," she patted my head, and then started messing with my hair.

I flinched away, "What are you doing?!"

"It looks like you haven't brushed your hair in...Actually, it looks like you've never brushed your hair. I'm making you look a little bit presentable." She raked a hand through my hair and then examined my outfit. "Your coat covers most of your uniform. Good. They would never trust you if they knew who you were." She pressed her lips together and looked at me; afraid of offending me. I just shrugged and gave her a reassuring smirk. She took a deep breath, and then we entered the house.

The inside was warm and comforting. There was a large living room filled with furniture and a large fireplace. Three old men sat in the couches, and were seemingly unfazed by us wandering into their house. Zoey nodded and smiled at them, and they returned the gesture. We walked through the room into the kitchen, where an elderly woman was cutting vegetables. "Elder Zomi," Zoey addressed her. She turned around and lit up at the sight of Zoey.

"It's so nice to see you!" she spoke lovingly, and took Zoey into an embrace. "Who's this?" Before Zoey could answer her, she was taking me into a big hug too.

"Hi," I said, awkwardly.

"This is my friend Volky," she introduced.

"Volkner, actually," I corrected.

Elder Zomi laughed. "Are you staying for dinner? I'm making a big pot of vegetable soup with crackers!"

"Maybe," Zoey replied, and smiled at the lady. "We're actually going to head downstairs, we were wondering if we could look through your collection of books?"

"Anything for my great niece," Elder Zomi said. "Looking for anything in-particular?"

"The Sacred Lake, got anything?" asked Zoey.

She thought for a moment and made a 'hmm' sound. "Back left corner. That's the place to look." She reached out and stroked Zoey's hair. "Hope you find what you're looking for."

"Thanks, Elder Zomi," Zoey gave her another hug and led me away again. I followed her to a back staircase, and we descended into the cold basement. She flipped on a light, and the room lit up, revealing rows and rows of bookcases.

"Holy crap," I whispered, "has your family ever owned a library?"

"Not that I know of," Zoey laughed, and we started for the back left corner.

The bookshelf in the back left corner was overflowing with books and papers. "This is going to take forever," I muttered.

She started to grab the biggest book. She yanked on it, and the huge thing fell into her arms. She was starting to struggle, so I quickly took it from her and held it. "Thanks," she said, but she wasn't happy about needing help. She flipped it open and began thumbing through it.

To my amazement, this giant book was no ordinary book. It was handwritten. "Is this a journal?" I asked.

She nodded. "The ancient elders of my family wrote this. This was written during the age of the Old Sinnoh War. Everything that they were discovering about Snowpoint and the lake were recorded in this. Unfortunately, there are a lot of myths to overlook."

"Overlook?" I echoed. "What if one of those so-called myths is exactly what we need?"

She shook her head. "It won't be. These myths talk about ancient rituals done to please gods and spirits, and all of the stories of these gods and spirits." She continued flipping the aged pages. She stopped at something and pointed at it. "This talks about the Sacred Lake…But I can't read this language…"

Readjusting the book, I looked at it. "It says…The Sacred Lake is to never be disturbed…There is a Psychic Type Pokémon that lives under the water, and will descend from the water, bringing death, destruction, cursing the ground of Snowpoint, and…It will cause blindness of whoever reads these words," I squeezed my eyes closed and screamed out in agonizing pain.

Zoey shrieked, "Volkner!"

I erupted in laughter. "I can't read it either. Am I just trustworthy, or are you naïve?"

She scoffed and slapped my arm, "I can't believe you did that!" After a moment of being mad, she began to laugh. "You're so stupid," she said. We looked back at the page. "This is hopeless," she took the book from me and placed it on the ground. "Okay," she went back to thinking, "we need a new plan. Any ideas?"

I picked the book back up. "We're not just going to give up on this because we don't know this language. Let's take it up to Elder Zomi. She'll read it for us." Zoey hesitated, and then nodded.

Back upstairs, we sat at the kitchen table as Elder Zomi tried to decipher the words. "It says the Sacred Lake is peaceful and calm. It says that it's mentally healing, and to drink from the water of the lake brings knowledge and clarity to your mind."

"But that's not true," Zoey quickly said, "it gives you terrible headaches, as it has my whole life."

Elder Zomi looked at Zoey, "It wasn't always like this, Zoey. Something disturbed the lake long ago, making it a dangerous place. One of the reasons we go there to meditate is to try and understand what made the lake so different."

"And have you?" I asked.

"No, no one has," she replied, sadly. "It's one of the greatest tragedies," she added.

"What about the other lakes in Sinnoh?"

Elder Zomi sighed, "We've never been there to visit them, but I've been told they exist." She nodded.

"Do you think they're related to the Sacred Lake?" Zoey asked.

"Probably…" Elder Zomi trailed off, "Maybe the reasoning for the lake being disturbed isn't anything that happened at _this _lake, but at the sister lakes."

"Maybe," Zoey agreed, but then her face fell. "So, worrying about this lake is pointless?"

"Absolutely not! This lake is our responsibility, and it warms my heart to see you worrying about it," she smiled at Zoey. "I'm worried about it too. Those dirty, dirty guards are messing around with things they don't understand. I wish they would just go back to the hole they crawled out of," her tone was filled with venom, and I didn't think that what she said would affect me…But it did.

Zoey glanced at me, and then back at Elder Zomi. "Thank you for your help." She stood up, I followed her lead.

Back outside, Zoey stood still. "What are we even doing here?" she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

That one sentence struck me with intensity. Not only had I thought that over and over again to myself for the past few days, I hadn't been able to conjure up an answer either. Flint would have frowned upon her for saying that, but isn't it a good thing to take step back and ask that one simple question, especially when the answer is so difficult? My brain started to cloud with sadistic comments, but I resisted saying them to her. She was lost and confused. She needed to find her direction again. She didn't need my heartless comments. So I grabbed her, and brought her into an embrace.

We stood there, in front of the Elder's house, for a few minutes while she calmed down. She stepped out of the hug, but held on to my arms. "Do you need to go back?" she asked me. I probably needed to go back. And if I went back at that time, I probably would have avoided the trouble I got into, but I shook my head and told her I could stay, because I didn't want to leave.

We went back to the gym. Zoey had lightened back up; that one moment of depression was over. She waltzed past me, running the back of her gloved hand across mine; a seemingly accidental gesture, but something inside of me said otherwise. Realizing I had tensed when she had done that, I relaxed. Then I wondered why I would even do that, when she was just Zoey, and Zoey was just a random girl. She wasn't the first girl to have taken an interest in me, all the others were just as shot down as she's going to be, but she was the first one to be so obvious about it. That wasn't the first little gesture she's done, I realized. She had placed her hand lightly on my back before, found an excuse to touch my arm or even my face, I recalled.

"Alright," she announced, then placed a hand on her hip and slightly leaned into it, "what is our next line of work?" She spun around quite elegantly, and a strand of short black hair fell into her face, and she shook her head to rid the hair away. She looked at me intently, and perked one eyebrow up. That usually meant someone was questioning you, but with her, it came off quite playfully. "Well?" The humor in her tone was strong, and she smirked. I realized that I hadn't said anything, so I cleared my throat.

"Uh, yeah, what are we doing?"

"I've got no idea. By now the scientists have to be back in their rooms, so we can't go back there today," she said.

"I'll cross that off the idea list," I raised my hand like I was holding a pen and pretending to cross something off in the air.

She laughed. "Good thinking. Um," she paused, "yeah I'm all out of ideas." She sighed, "This whole thing was pointless, wasn't it?"

"Maybe a little," I said, and then shrugged, "at least I got to see you in a nurse uniform."

Zoey frowned and walked away, "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Where are you going?" I called. She walked across the battlefield and opened a door hidden in the wall. It appeared to be closet. She pulled out a blanket.

"Might as well be comfortable while we brainstorm ideas," she said, and glided back. She put the large blanket on the ice floor and lay down, tapping the spot next to her, gesturing for me to join. I did.

"Wow, the floor isn't even cold," I said.

"NeverMeltIce is weird like that," she returned.

Lying back on the floor, I noticed that painted on the ceiling was a mural of clouds and a blue sky. "Did you do that?" I pointed up to it.

She laughed and scooted closer to me. "Nope, that was Zaïre. He's quite the artist. When I was little I asked him why he painted this, and he told me it was because he wanted to know what a blue sky looked like. That's the only downfall of being chained to Snowpoint."

"I can understand that," I said, not knowing what else to say.

She nodded, and wrapped her arm around mine. She was curled beside me comfortably, her head resting on my arm. "Were you ever the daydreaming type?" she asked randomly. I looked at her dark eyes peering up at me to make sure she was being serious.

"Yeah," I let out a breath of laughter, "I daydreamed in school more than I learned, so I'd say so."

Before I could wonder why she asked, she continued: "Well, good. You seem so stern—yet sarcastic—all the time, I wanted to make sure there was something rather…Chipper, or childlike, inside of you." She craned her head to look at me better.

"I don't think I'm following you, Zoe. How does that determine if I'm _'chipper_' or not?"

She sighed and relaxed on me again, "It's nice to know that when you look up at the sky, you're not thinking 'Dang, that's a sky,' you're thinking something like, 'Dang, that cloud looks funny. I wonder what it would be like to have that clouds view on the world.' Or, 'If I were a Flying Type, I'd fly through that cloud so fast I'd push it over another region.'" She laughed, and peeked at me again.

"Then…I suppose I'm not the chipper type," I said almost bitterly, "I doubt I would think that."

She sat up and made a face, "Why not? Isn't it pleasant to have those thoughts?"

"No," I spoke humorlessly, "it's not; it's sad, actually. Because after you have those musings, after you conjured up a fantasy about flying through the clouds, you have to think about how that's not possible, about how it's only _a fantasy_, and think about how life isn't that cool."

She sighed again, this one very different from the last. "Oh you and your brutish thoughts, of course you'd think that way." She smiled, and I shrugged and smirked. The situation suddenly seemed lighter. Zoey was good at that, hastily changing the mood. She repositioned: Lying on my arm, curled up next to me, her leg entwined with mine; and I could feel a rush of heat roll through me as I realized the intimacy of the moment. I hadn't meant for this to happen, but it just fell into place like this. The thought tugged on my mind that I should move, but Zoey breathed deeply, and I looked at her face snuggled against my shoulder. Instinctively, and before I gave it thought, I kissed her forehead. My eyes bugged out of my face in surprise at my own actions. Luckily she didn't notice, and had apparently fallen asleep.

All thoughts about leaving ceased, and I stayed there, watching her sleep for who-knows-how-long. Eventually, I decided that I couldn't let myself fall asleep, or let her wake up with me still there, so I willed myself—carefully—up, and left, while I still had enough willpower to leave.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is probably one of my favorite chapters so far. The storyline is really starting to move. Eeee. So, that poll is still on my profile, and you people haven't voted in it. Shame on you. Go do that. I also just started a blog. If you all are interested, I might link it in my profile. Let me know.

Feedback for this chapter would be greatly appreciated, because I really am curious as to if you liked it! I like it a lot.

Would you guys prefer one really long chapter, or if I chopped the chapter into two parts? Chapter nineteen is going to be long, and there might be a Chapter Nineteen Part One and Part Two if you guys want, instead of one super chapter.

Thanks for reading!


	20. Escape

_Chapter Nineteen: Escape_

_Morality Ends Where Power Begins_

Blood covered the snow around my face. I could taste the coppery liquid in my mouth, and the smell filled my nose. The ice felt like shards on my bare face. I lifted my head, only to be greeted with Commander Collins's foot crushing my skull back into the snow. "I should shoot you," he whispered. His whispers were scarier than his screams. So much scarier.

"Enough," I heard Commander Days smooth and calm voice, and footsteps approaching.

"I'll decide when enough is enough!" Collins returned, and kicked me so hard I moaned uncontrollably.

"Collins, you have _things _to do," the way Days emphasized 'things' didn't sound too swell, "and I will handle him."

Collins huffed and growled before walking away.

"Volkner," Days knelt down next to me, but I couldn't open my eyes, "are you okay?"

Was I okay? I was just pummeled by a lunatic in deathly cold weather, and I couldn't feel or move my body. I muttered some insensible response, and Days lifted me to my feet and led, or more accurately carried, me into the warehouse. He sat me in front of the fireplace, and a few guards surrounded me. I was able to open my eyes, but both of them throbbed and I could imagine the black circles around them. Flint was there, concern written all over his face, staring at me.

"You look great," he said, and tried to smile reassuringly. I just groaned and looked back at Days.

He didn't say anything at first, like he was trying to muster up the courage—but Days was one of the most courageous people I knew, or so he made me believe. He sighed, annoyed, and swore, before meeting my eyes. "You're so stupid," he said, harshly. I nodded. At the moment, I absolutely believed him. I felt idiotic. "Since you stepped into The Shadows I had a feeling that you would convince yourself you could get away with anything. That you would convince yourself you were smarter and more cunning. You're not. You're stupid. You disappear, leaving _Flint of all people _in charge of covering for you," Flint's face fell, and he turned and walked away, "and you thought you wouldn't get caught? Collins was standing there all day waiting for you to return. He actually thought he was getting through to you. That's all out the window now. Any ideas that he had about you being a soldier are gone. You should be glad that he hasn't decided to ship you away or shoot you yet. He might. But _I'm not going to let him," _he grabbed my shoulder unnecessarily hard and spoke through clenched teeth, "because I know you're better than this and _hell, _if Maroon and Collins couldn't get through to you, I want to be the one who does."

He squeezed my shoulder, and I suppressed whimpering. "Maroon warned you a long time ago. Champion Lea knows about the deal you made with us back then. I'm not the one who told him, I didn't want to rat you out and I didn't, but someone else did, and _someone else will now," _he had a serious, somehow concerned tone, and gave me a warning glance before stepping away. "Get some rest while Collins is out. If he asks," he looked around the room at the group of guards, "I gave him what he deserved." Days left, and I laid down, sore and exhausted.

The next day began with Days waking me up by lifting me to my feet. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," I replied, and stretched.

"Oh good, you can speak, and move," he slapped my back and said, "time for morning sprints."

The rest of the day didn't progress positively. While Days let me eat and shower, and still treated me like a human even though he was punishing me, it was awful. My soreness made everything worse. However, I was thankful that Days was keeping me busy and out of Collins's reach.

On the third day of training and punishment with Days, he sat me down for lunch and asked: "So, are you going to tell me why you disappeared?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Everyone has a choice," he answered, but added, "however it would be stupid and suspicious if you didn't tell me what you were up to. Collins and Mason have been bugging me about it."

"Mason?" I wondered, and he raised his eyebrow at my interest.

"Yeah, he wanted to know," Days said, "so enlighten me."

"I left because…" I couldn't tell him about Zoey, which would probably lead her into trouble and me into deeper trouble, "I needed to." Days gave me a look of disbelief. "I needed a break from all of this. I doubted The Callousen, and for a moment, I wanted out. Haven't you ever felt that way?"

Commander Days bit his lip. "Not once in ten years."

"What?" Now I was giving him the look of disbelief.

"The Callousen is where I belong. I've believed that since Day One. I came in here a starving, dying, orphaned kid. I never belonged anywhere else in my entire life. Now look at me. I'm in charge. I can fend for myself. I can do anything. I belong."

"You never thought of what a real life would feel like?" I asked.

He frowned. "I had a _real life, _as you call it. One where my parents, the only people who I knew, either died or took off—I like to believe that they died, honestly—and left me on some route where I didn't know where I was, until I wandered and wandered into Veilstone, and lived in a gutter or a back alley or in an empty house—only until the drug dealers returned, and violently kicked me out—and then I was found by Jeck and taken to The Shadows. Everything got better. This is _my _real life. And it should be yours too, because this is it, Volkner. Your life starts here, remember?"

Nodding, I didn't reply. We ate, and then he announced that I could rest until Commander Mason or Collins returned. I didn't question him, and he went outside. I stayed in for a while, wondering where Flint could be, and then I left to find him.

He was behind the warehouse with none other than Zoey. "Volkner!" she said, and threw her arms around me, dropping her cigarette in the process.

"You know," I said, as I moved her out of the hug, "I would tell you how dangerous it is to be here, but I know I'll never convince you, so I'll just let you get caught." There was venom in my tone, and she heard it loud and clear.

"Volkner…" her voice was solemn, "I am so, so sorry. Flint told me that you've been getting punished. I should never have kept you out that long. It's my fault."

"Yeah, a little," I retorted.

She looked down, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Flint came to her side and put an arm around her. He looked at me, "Just because you're pissed off doesn't mean you should make her feel bad."

"Shut up Flint," I snapped. "Zoey can handle it, don't treat her like she's incapable."

At that, Zoey pushed Flint away, "It doesn't matter," she muttered, and picked up her snow-covered cigarette.

Scoffing, I said: "Where did you get those, Flint? You ran out. Don't tell me you stole them!"

Flint squinted at me. "Wow, you're in a bad mood," he said, making Zoey laugh. Then he grinned, "I didn't steal them."

Zoey sniggered mischievously. I gave her a look. "You never learn," I said.

"You and my sister would really get along swimmingly!" she exclaimed.

"Who did you take them from?" I asked.

She shrugged, "I didn't know him. I just grabbed them from his back packet. He didn't notice a thing."

Flint pulled the carton from his pocket and offered me one. Zoey was peering at me with an amused face, and something compelled me to take one and light it. I coughed at first, and the discomfort of something invading my body was there, but I forced myself to not cough and get through it.

"Yo…" Flint began, "the rumors going around are crazy. Something bad is going to happen."

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated. "Commander Collins has been talking about what's going to happen to you. He hasn't said very good things. Crazy rumors, man. But, I would watch out. Something else is going on, too. Commander Mason and Collins are up to something. Things are getting…" he trailed off.

"Terrifying?" Zoey offered.

"Terrifying," Flint said.

"Well where are they?" I asked, my heart picking up speed as I became anxious.

"The Commanders? No idea. Days has been with you, and the other two have been mysteriously leaving."

"And the scientists haven't left the Center," Zoey added.

I looked at Zoey, "Could you figure it out?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I could definitely follow them next time they leave." Zoey took my wrist in her hand. "Your pulse is crazy, are you okay?" I shook my head. "No offense, but…Shouldn't you be used to this sort of thing? I mean, I'm sure you're not the first person to ever get in trouble in the guard."

"I'm not, but usually when people get in trouble, they don't just suffer some punishment and then go back to normal…"

Flint nodded. "He's right. It's not normal—"

"Flint! Volkner!" Days called.

"Crap!" I heard Zoey say, and then we turned around to face Commander Days.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked. We shrugged. I looked behind me, Zoey was gone. Thankfully. "Time for patrol. Volkner, go with them, alright?" he said, and I nodded.

We left off with our patrol group in a hurry. Patrol seemingly lasted forever, and we didn't return until nightfall. Collins greeted our group, and grabbed me by my collar. "Look who's patrolling with his shirt untucked _again_. You look like a fool!" he dropped me, and I landed on my butt.

"I look like a fool? You walked around with your pants on backwards and your pearly white cheeks poking out!"

Is what I would have said if I wanted to die. Instead, I was silent and let Collins laugh at me. That was better than anything else that could have happened, especially if Collins was threatening to kill me.

After dinner, Collins left again. This time he was alone. Commander Mason stayed behind, and Days went to bed. Flint and I sat in the compound with a group of guards. We didn't say much, until the night went on, and people had fallen asleep.

"Zoey's right," I whispered, "we should be used to this."

"Used to what? Being afraid of commanders?" Flint slightly laughed.

"Not just that. Callousen life, and everything that comes with it…In The Shadows my friend Seth was taken to the League because he wasn't good enough. He worked so hard, and was rewarded by what?" I scoffed and shook my head.

"At least they didn't kill him," whispered Flint, "when I was in The Shadows, they had their biggest cut of Newbies of all time. And they didn't cut them by sending them to the League, if you know what I mean."

Uncontrollably, I winced. "You'd think I'd be used to death…" He looked at me. "After my mom and Rayne, I thought I would be numb to it forever. Now that I'm being faced with the possibility of dying, I realize that that's my greatest fear. Death." He was quiet. "Every time I play the scene of Jeck taking me away, I think of it differently. Sometimes, I think of it as me bravely joining the Guards of Lea and leaving everything behind like some sort of hero. Other times, I think of it as me being pulled away from the life I knew and tossed into some sort of hell. But neither of those is true. I ran away from my fears and problems. I thought I was running from death. Turns out, I ran right into the arms of it."

"You don't know that you're going to _die._ Don't be so dramatic," Flint playfully punched my shoulder.

"I'm going to die sooner or later. And whether it's sooner or later doesn't matter. All that matters is I'm going to die in the Callousen. And maybe that's exactly how I should die. I belong here, now. I belong with all the other terrible people."

"They're not all terrible," Flint returned, defensively. "I mean, maybe there are no saints here, but seriously? We're not all bad."

"Murderers, Flint, these people are murderers. You said it yourself, in your group there was the biggest _cut _of all time. Sooner or later we're going to be murderers too. I've done things I'm not proud of in here…" I paused, "Things I never would have done before. The day you found me in The Underground, I had beaten up a helpless miner. I felt bad about it at first, but honestly? I got over it. I found myself laughing at the stories the other guards would tell about the horrendous things they did. I could feel myself turning heartless. And yet you say that we're not all bad. That just proves that you're becoming numb to it, too," I spoke quietly.

Flint sighed, and I could tell that he was fighting back all kinds of emotions. "I'm not proud of things I've done, either," his voice quivered, "I've killed people, Volkner. I'm one of those murderers. It wasn't _just _me, but I was involved. And then I would laugh when others would come to me and tell me they killed someone. We don't just murder people, we murder Pokémon. So many Pokémon for so many reasons. You know what Commander Marla does? She makes a serum, in the lab at the bottom of The Underground, made to make Pokémon grow in size and level very unnaturally and very painfully. She also makes serums that keep them tame, so they won't be aggressive towards us, so we don't have to make bonds. She calls it The Fake Bond," he shook his head and made a face of disgust. "I might never get my Monferno to truly trust me again, and that's killin' me. But nothin' kills me more than knowing that, because of me one way or another, people have died." He met eyes with me. "Like Rayne…" he trailed off.

Everything inside of me stopped. The whole world stopped. "You killed Rayne?"

"No! But…I know the guards who did. If I had gone to Sunyshore with the group who was sent there for that contest and recruiting, I probably would have been a part of it, like some sick game," he was crying now, and if I wasn't so angry, I would have cried too.

"I can't believe it," I whispered, and a horrible feeling curled in my stomach, "guards killed my Rayne." I clenched my jaw and my fist.

Flint wiped his eyes, "I should have told you sooner, but…When I saw you in the alley, it was like a rubber band snapped, and I suddenly realized the person I had been. I had been horrible. And from then on, I wanted to be different, and I tried to forget all of those things…I swore to myself to never bring it up…So I'm sorry, Volk."

"It's not your fault. I don't blame you. And in some odd way, you've been the only thing that has kept me sane around here. And then when things got worse when we came to Snowpoint, it was Zoey too. So really, thanks," I patted his shoulder, and he nodded. "But we have to get out of here."

His head shot up at me. "What?"

"We have to get out of the Callousen. I can't stand to be a part of this for another day."

"Yo, there's no way out! People can't just check out, this isn't a hotel. People either die, or get sent to the League. Unless you're talkin' fakin' deaths, it's not gonna work. And I'm not fakin' no deaths!"

"Calm down! I'll figure it out," I reassured him.

He shook his head, "If you want out, go. But I've told you, there is no path for me out there. There's probably one for you, but not for me. I'm too far gone."

"Flint, you're not," I whispered.

"I am," he muttered.

"I'm not going to waste time trying to convince you. I'm getting out of here. Are you with me, or not?"

He shook his head, and then after a silent goodbye, I started for the loft to wake up Mason.

* * *

"What do you want?!" Commander Mason growled after we went outside. "It's the middle of the night, you're on probation, and I want sleep."

_What am I getting myself into? _It was a little late to ask myself that, but I couldn't let that stop me now. "Mason," I said the word loud and clear and without 'commander' behind it. He raised his eyebrows. "I need your help."

He laughed. "Tough luck," he replied.

"Hear me out," I took a deep breath, "I want out of The Callousen, and I need your help. There's no way I can successfully escape on my own, and I know you'll help me."

"You can't be serious," he was confused and was starting to get angry. "Are you high? Is that what you've been running off doing? Getting high?"

"I know you've been hearing the rumors too. You've probably heard it straight from Commander Collins. But I'm either going to die or be shipped to the League, which is a close second to death," I said, ignoring what he said.

"You're right, I have heard that. I think it would be better without someone like you around. This exchange proves it, actually!"

"I _know _you don't believe that, Mason. I'm practically your only family left. _Me _and _my _siblings. And Aunt Mary, but she doesn't really count, especially because she's busy taking care of the only family she has left, which again is my siblings. You owe it to me _and _you owe it to my mom, Emily." Saying her name hurt my throat, and I could see that it hurt him, too. "I don't want this life anymore. Even if I stay right here and nothing ends up happening to me, it still feels like death. I know you don't want that for me. I know you didn't want that for her, either."

He groaned and kicked the snow. "You haven't thought this through," he said, and pointed at me, "what are you going to do if you do escape? Go home? They'll find you, and kill you."

Shaking my head, I said: "I'll hide. I'll hide until its safe enough to go home, or I find some other way."

"There is no other way, Volkner! You're insane! This is a death wish through and through!"

"No it's not!" I countered. "And if it is, then why shouldn't you help me? I'll just die. The way I'm supposed to, apparently."

He clenched his jaw and breathed hard. "You're just like her," Mason said. "You're stubborn. Think you know how everything is going to turn out. Think you're the smartest person alive. Just like her."

"She taught me well," I spoke. "Will you help me?"

"This is why I didn't want us to interact while I was here," he muttered, but then said: "Yeah. I'll help."

"Okay…" I didn't know where to begin. Luckily, I didn't have to.

"Leave and I'll cover for you."

"What?"

"I said—"

"I know what you said. But where am I supposed to go? And how are you going to cover for me?"

"I'm a Commander. I can get half of that warehouse to listen to anything I say. I can cover for you. Go somewhere, wait until morning, and fly back towards Coronet. Stay away from the towns that have compounds. I would suggest going to Canalave, Eterna or Floaroma, but beware The Windworks Compound. Let no one know you were a guard. Stay as uninvolved as possible, and maybe eventually you can have a normal life. You might be waiting until Lea kicks the bucket. You realize that, right?"

"Yes. But any of that is better than this."

"I can't promise you that anything will work out. I'm putting myself in danger, here," he said.

"And I can't thank you enough for it."

I had my Pokémon, my uncle's help, and determination to finally escape from the place I never should have gotten sucked into. I left the compound. Morning was only a short time away, but I had one more place to go before I could leave.

Entering The Center, I was surprised to see someone behind the counter working so early. "Are you Zoey's sister?" I asked her, not wasting any time.

She shook her head. "I'm her cousin, who are you?" She looked me up and down. "You're the guard boy she's been hanging out with?"

"Well, yeah," I nodded, not knowing how to reply to that, "I need to see her immediately. Can you tell me where to find her?"

She thought for a moment. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no! I'm not telling you where my little cousin lives, that's crazy."

I punched the countertop out of frustration, making her jump. "Then go get her and bring her here, please. It's urgent. It's…" Well, I had to lie, "about the safety of Snowpoint, and I won't talk to anyone but her."

She hesitated, but soon jumped up and told me to stay put.

Minutes later, Zoey and her cousin returned. Zoey flew into my arms, and asked me what was going. We walked outside.

"I'm leaving," I said, bluntly, "I'm getting out of The Callousen. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know what will happen, but…I want you to come with me."

She waved her hand, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. You're escaping the guards?" I nodded. "With no plan?" I nodded and shrugged. "And want me to come with you?"

"Yeah, that _is _what I said."

She sighed. "You thought _I _was trouble? That's a horrible idea!"

She was right. It was terrible. But it was the middle of the night, I wasn't thinking straight, and just as Mason said, I was stubborn.

"It's my only way out, Zoey," I said, and she gave me a worried look. "I have to do this."

"Do it, then," she said, and then wrapped her arms around my neck, stood up on her toes and kissed me. She tasted like nicotine and mint; addictive and stimulating, and I liked it. She broke the kiss, way too soon, and looked me in the eyes. Her eyes had filled with tears, and I knew what she was going to say. "But I can't go with you. I can't run away from my family."

"I'll come back. I'll be back," I said quickly, and wrapped my arms around her. "I promise."

She started to cry. "Don't make a promise you can't keep."

"Nothing is going to happen to me, okay?" I put my forehead on hers. She touched my face. "Promise me you'll be here when I come back."

"I promise," she said, and then breathed a laugh, "I'm not the one going anywhere. I'm not the one in danger."

"Then who is? Flint?" I joked, but she didn't laugh. She kissed me again, and we spent a few minutes together, watching the sunrise.

She insisted I didn't say goodbye. Somehow not saying goodbye was worse than officially using words of parting.

But the worst part happened next.

As I took to the skies on my Staravia, a gunshot rang out, and we began to fall.

* * *

Landing wasn't as painful as I thought. The painful part was being drug by Collins from the loading docks into the warehouse, and then being slapped hard in the face by him. "It's your lucky day, _Soldier," _Collins mocked, "I don't have to decide your fate. Head Commander Lea is here to do it himself!" He laughed, and I looked around the room. Lea wasn't in there, but I saw Mason.

Why wasn't he getting punished? He was my accomplice!

Turns out that wasn't the thing to be worried about, because Champion Lea walked through the front door.

* * *

They sat me in a chair, and everyone left the building. It was just me and Champion Lea, staring at each other. He looked just as I remembered, except this time, there was something crazy in his eyes.

"Let me tell you what happened…" he finally said. "Yesterday I showed up to speak to the scientists and commanders face-to-face. Commander Collins told me about you mysteriously leaving, right around the time a spy was spotted at the lake. It was very suspicious. I was going to let you have a few more days before we killed you for being a rebel, but it looks like you ruined that when you tried to escape. Commander Mason immediately came to Commander Collins and I after you devised a plan. It's a good thing you waited for daylight, just as Mason suggested, right? So Collins could see exactly where you were and shoot that Pokémon you were on? Or else you might have gotten away. But you see, Volkner, there is no escape. And I'm glad that you tested it, because now all of your fellow guardsmen see the truth in that," he smiled, and then pulled out a gun, and pressed it to my forehead. I clenched my eyes shut and bit my tongue.

"I would kill you," he said, "except that would be too easy. You deserve _years _of torture and distress." He put his gun away, and I opened my eyes. "There's a boat on the way. It'll be here tomorrow. It'll take you to the League, where you will live as my humble servant. Along with your friend, Seth, right?"

I said nothing.

"Oh, that's right, he hung himself. I guess you won't be seeing him. Except in the Netherworld, I suppose." He started to walk away. "And I really thought there was more to you. You're just as worthless as Cirla was."

"Cirla?!" The name popped out of my mouth before I thought about it.

He looked over his shoulder and grinned. "Cirla Parley, she came across as idiotic as you."

"How…How…" I couldn't speak anymore. Tears were furiously rolling down my face. I was so angry; I could have hit Lea in the face if he was close enough.

"We had an encounter when she was a trainer. Long story short, she's really a coward and worthless, and ran off to another region," he waved his hand. "Not even important enough to talk about. I have things to do." He left, slamming the door, and I slumped to the floor.

When I awoke, I was handcuffed and chained outside. Days was next to me, unchaining me. "Boats here," was all he said.

"I…I thought it was supposed to come tomorrow?" I was shivering uncontrollably.

"It is tomorrow. After you passed out, Lea gave you sedatives. They chained you out here all night. You might have to get a few toes chopped off. Your face isn't even the right color anymore. Hypothermia." He tried to get me to stand, but it didn't work very well. "I kept a fire going for you for most of the night, so that's why everyone is surprised that you're alive," he whispered.

"Thanks," I muttered, but I wasn't very thankful. In fact, I wasn't thankful at all.

Everything came back to me. My life was ending. I had made the worst decision of my life: Trying to escape The Callousen. Mason had absolutely let me down. And my life was over.

Days helped me on the boat. Collins was there, laughing at me, but Mason wasn't. I wish he was. I would have let him have it. Days sat me down, and then put a syringe in my arm.

"Please don't," I whimpered, desperately not wanting to lose consciousness.

I hear him speak as I begin to doze off.

"Farewell, Guard Parley…Gone but never forgotten…"

* * *

Screams.

When the sedatives wore off, that's what I heard. I lifted my head. I was on a boat, filled with other guards, and the boat was thrashing around so much it threw me to the side. Quickly I stood up, only to lose my balance and fall again. "What's going on?!" I yelled, hoping and praying that I would get some sort of response.

"Something hit us!" a nearby guard yelled. "Something is attacking the boat!" As I was looking at him, something rammed into the boat, and sent him over the railing. I gasped, and stood up, peering out.

I could see nothing. It was dark, and all I could hear were the sounds of intense waves. I tightened my grip on the rail.

"The captain went overboard!" I heard, and then turned just in time for the boat to be struck, and watch as the boat began to tip, and the remaining guards fell into the ocean. Including me.

Struggling at the surface, I inhaled water as I gasped and kicked my legs violently. "Help!" I cried. The boat was gone, and I heard a few other voices in the distance. I couldn't even see the waves that slapped me in the face. But I could see one thing, and it almost looked unobtainable: A light in the darkness.

_~End Part One of The Leader's Origin~ _

* * *

**Authors Note:** Welcome back. I know I've been gone for a hot minute, but I've returned. Some rough things have happened, and some good things too. I'm just trying to get back into the swing of normal life at the moment.

WinnieCocoaFlip: Zoey is my OC, not the Zoey from the anime. This is in the past. All the gym leaders are different. Minus Fantina. I think she's the only one. Sorry that that kept confusing you.

Chapter twenty shall be up soon. I hope everyone is still enjoying this story. What do you expect to happen next?

Still debating on linking my blog on my profile. If you're interested enough, I'll PM the link to you. Might be a bit too personal to just throw out there.

My prediction for how many chapters are left: I think another twenty is about accurate. I'm not sure exactly how everything will fall into place, but that is my prediction. Possibly an addition ten after that. POSSIBLY. Depends on what I do. So beings Part Two!

I think that's all I wanted to say! Did anybody watch E3 this year? I didn't,unfortunately. But I did watch all three Back to The Future's yesterday. Hehe. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. Keep the reviews coming.

*The first thing uploaded wasn't the final copy of this chapter. Ugh, I hope that didn't bother anyone.


	21. Reckless

_Chapter Twenty: Reckless_

"_Only Noble To Be Good"_

Sunyshore was just as I remembered. Being bright, smolderingly hot, and filled with people made it the total opposite of Snowpoint. The cities might have been the same size, but Snowpoint seemed so much smaller, and Sunyshore seemed like a vast yet compact entrapment. Before, I never realized just how many houses and buildings lined _everything, _and _all_ of the groupings of people that filled them and any other empty space. Now, it was all slapping me in the face and making me feel trapped by buildings and people.

As I walked, fast-paced, towards the place I knew all too well, I felt like the sea of people coming towards me and running into me were just that: A sea. They were waves splashing me and rocking me, and I struggled—desperately—to swim through them, but it was never-ending water.

Suddenly lightning struck, and lit up the roaring ocean around me, and I screamed; swallowing more salty water and kicking my legs to stay above it. Then I was back, pushing my way through people, as I started to breathe harder and realize how anxious I was becoming. The people never stopped. I could see nothing but people, with no sign of anything else. I could scream, but it was pointless, they didn't hear me and they didn't move away, only towards me. But I had to keep going, I knew this; I knew I couldn't stop.

Like a miracle, the people stopped, and I pushed my way into the very empty Rock Beach. The sun was setting, sending a cinematic glow across everything. The waves were calm. The wind was still. It was almost as if time was frozen. And then, I saw a girl, sitting on a boulder, looking at me with a small smile. At first I thought I was looking at an angel. But I laughed when I realized it was Rayne. It was funny that I would confuse her for an angel. She sat there, wearing a peach-colored dress stained with charcoal and paint splatters that she wore all the time, barefooted (go figure) and had her hair lying down across her shoulders, damp and frizzing out; but honest to God, nothing was more beautiful.

Like some demented fantasy, as I moved towards her—as quickly as I could, which wasn't fast enough—she grabbed her stomach, and blood poured from her mouth. She yanked something out of her stomach and examined it as her eyes weakened. It was a blood covered knife. She turned her attention from that to me, a look of pain and terror in her eyes, and I screamed and started to run towards her. Even though I felt like I was moving, I wasn't getting any closer to her. As she sat there, I could see life start to leave her, and she slumped off of the boulder. As she lay on the ground, panting for life, Lea appeared, with the knife in his hand, laughing. I stopped in my place, suddenly terrified, and he pointed the knife at me. Fear filled me like it never had before.

And then, as quickly as everything appeared, everything disappeared, leaving me in complete darkness.

My eyes flickered open. _Too bright_. I shut them again. _Wait, I have to…_ I opened them again, forcing them the best that I could. Everything was brightness. I felt water rush up my body, and I twitched when the memories of nearly drowning returned. I would have scrambled up, but I was much too tired. My eyes closed. _Keep your eyes open, _I tried to command myself. I mustered up the energy and opened them again. I saw the black shadow of someone in all of the bright rays of sunshine. "Rayne?" I tried to say, but I actually just muttered something intelligible.

The memory—or what felt like a memory—of Rayne being stabbed came back in my mind, and I tried to inch away from the shadow coming towards me. "No," I tried to say, "no…"

He approached me. And then, I fell back into unconsciousness.

* * *

When I awoke, I was lying in a Center bed. My room was dimly lit, thankfully, and smelled sterile. I lifted my head and looked down at myself: I was wearing a medical gown, had bandages covering my arms, and a needle stuck into my forearm connected to a pouch. "What is…," I felt drowsy, "...going on?" My head felt heavy, and I was exhausted, even though I had obviously overslept. I searched for a clock. The room only held the medical equipment and bed. "Nurse?" I called weakly, but the door was closed, and I was sure no one would hear me. "Great," I muttered to myself, and then began to cough. I winced at an intense pain in my chest, and then at my throbbing muscles.

Since there was nothing else to do, I decided to give into my exhaustion and sleep. Leaning back in the bed, I sighed at how comfortable it was. When was the last time I slept in a bed? As I started to fall asleep, I felt myself rock like I did in the ocean. I felt the water push me around. I felt the water engross me repeatedly, almost drowning me and killing me.

Squirming in my bed, I began to panic as reality sat in. _What happened? How am I alive? I was stranded at sea! Was it a dream? Did my sedatives mess with my brain and make me hallucinate? I feel like I'm hallucinating now! _I did feel like this was an eerie dream. I felt like something horrible was about to happen, like some awful discovery was about to be made. My throat was dry, and I didn't know what to think anymore.

Well, no sleep for me.

Suddenly, the door opened, and made me jump and gasp. A man walked in, and looked shocked to see me in the bed. He stood there, staring, with a very serious, unemotional look on his face, before turning around and saying, "Nurses, he's awake."

He shut the door slowly. He stood there, arms crossed, frowning at me. Was I supposed to say something? I was at a loss for words.

"Feeling okay?" he asked, but there was little interest in his voice.

"I…" The door busted open again, and two nurses came in. They rushed over to me, fervently asking me questions and changing bandages and giving me medicine and removing the needle from my arm.

"I think you'll be fine, Sir," one nurse said, "you're pretty banged up, and you swallowed a lot of salt water—most of which you threw up during your _outbursts_—but all of your cuts and injuries are healing wonderfully!"

"Wait, outburst?" I questioned.

The two nurses nodded and exchanged looks. "You…" one of them began, "woke up sporadically to yell unintelligible things and random words and throw up all over yourself. We expected you to be mentally unstable, but from what we could tell, your brain was fine. The deciding factor is…Well, right now."

"To tell if I'm mentally unstable or not?"

"Yes," she chirped, and began jotting things down in a notebook. "But you seem pretty stable. We're going to keep you for another night, at least. Just to keep an eye on you, Mister…?" The other nurse stopped sterilizing equipment to turn around and wait for my response. They didn't know my name. They didn't know who I was. Maybe that was a great thing. "Do you remember your name?" she asked.

"I, uh, I think I'll remember later…" I said. She nodded, and they left, leaving me and the man alone. I looked at him. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but I knew I didn't know him.

He frowned harder before saying: "Do you have any recollection of what happened?"

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Your rescuer," he answered, and took a step closer. Concern filled his face as he examined mine, "I found you washed up on the back beach of Sunyshore early yesterday morning. Your clothes were nearly torn to shreds. You were nearly dead. Where did you come from? What happened to you?"

"I…I don't know," I answered, but I knew where I came from. I looked away from him.

He breathed out hard, and I saw him shaking his head in my peripherals. "I may not have had many experiences with guards, but from what I know, all of them are so secretive," he said.

My head shot towards him. "You know I'm a guard?"

"Well you were in uniform. It was barely distinguishable, but I assumed, and apparently was right. The nurses didn't notice, if that makes you feel better, since you're obviously distressed that I know."

"I'm not exactly…Proud of it," I muttered.

"Clearly," he said, and I squinted at him.

"Who are you, anyway?" I asked, becoming annoyed.

"I'm known by most as Professor Rowan," he replied, unenthusiastically.

So that's why he was vaguely familiar. I had seen him on television before; he was Sinnoh's acclaimed professor. "Oh," was all I said.

"Should I contact some family? A commander? They're probably—"

"No," I choked out, "please don't tell _anyone." _

He frowned again. By the lines on his aged face, I could see that frowning was pretty much natural for him. "Listen, if you want me to trust you, you need to start being honest and talkative."

"Why would I want your trust? I don't know you," I spit.

"I found you washed up on the beach and took you to the Center, and stayed here with you, making sure you were okay and cared for. If you want my help, you want my trust. It's simple, really. You owe me an honest explanation."

Sighing, I tried to decide where to begin. "I was stationed in Snowpoint. I had misbehaved—left the compound on my own, which is frowned upon—so I was to be punished. Punishments consist of one of two things in the guards. Death," I expected something from him, but he was unfazed, "or being sent to the League for a life of torture and horribleness. I went for option three, escape. I stupidly tried to devise a plan," I realized how idiotic I sounded and how awful of a plan that was, "and it went horribly wrong…My commander caught me, and—just my luck—Champion Lea was visiting our compound, and told me I would be sent to the League. They gave me sedatives. Next thing I knew, I was on a sinking ship, and struggling to stay alive in the ocean…I saw a light, I started for it, and then…I can't remember the rest…I think I hallucinated, and somehow ended up on the shore," I shrugged, and looked at him.

His face was unchanged, but his voice held something different when he spoke next, "It's amazing that you're alive. Something was looking out for you. Your journey wasn't supposed to end like that."

I didn't reply.

"That sinking ship was on Jubilife News last night. They said that every passenger died. People will think you're dead," he said, and gave me a worried look.

Then a thought struck me, "Champion Lea thinks I died."

He nodded, "Most likely."

I couldn't sustain a smile. "I'm out of his reach! I'm out of his grip! I'm off his radar!"

He looked amused at my happiness for a moment, but then went back to serious, "Until you return to your family and home."

"I'm not going to return," I said, "I can't go back…"

He raised an eyebrow and made a thinking noise. "So where are you going to go? Where did you live?" He paused, "What's your name?"

"I have no idea where I'm going, I live here—in Shore—and…Volkner Parley, Sir," I reached out my hand, and he shook it. "I'm sorry that I was so secretive earlier. I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

Professor Rowan nodded and grunted, "Parley? Volton's boy?"

"You know my dad?!"

He quickly shook his head, "Not personally, but I know of him, and your family's business. He does own the biggest architecture firm in all of Sinnoh, after all." He touched his brown mustache and eyed me, "You have quite the story, Volkner, and quite the predicament."

"And you can't tell _anyone,_" I pleaded.

"I wouldn't dare get involved with Callousen business," he murmured.

"Callousen? You know that term?"

He shrugged, "I know a lot about Sinnoh, I'm the Professor, remember? That aside," he sat on the end of the bed, "if Champion Lea knew I was harboring you…I would surely die, wouldn't I?" his tone wasn't questioning, but he looked at me, expecting an answer.

"I'm afraid so, Professor Rowan. It's a good thing you're not technically harboring me."

"Where else would you go?" he asked, and I realized that he was, possibly, considering taking me in.

"I really have no clue…But I would figure it out," said I, "Somehow," I added.

"After this ridiculous disposition to escape the Callousen and return to normalcy, what was your plan?"

"Well…" I hesitated and realized that I hadn't really thought about it, "Professor Rowan, my lifelong dream was to become a trainer, so I would have pursued that."

"Was?"

I didn't understand. "What?"

"_Was _to become a trainer?" he asked.

"_Is," _I corrected, "It is my lifelong dream to become a trainer."

He smiled, "That's what I like to hear. So many kids these days don't have that passion, Volkner, they go to trainer school and then what? Totally forget about their love for Pokémon?" He waved his hand, "I digress. So, let's make you a trainer. I want to help you launch your life."

Pausing, I let that sink in. "I can't. The second I challenge the first gym, Lea will know I'm still alive and…Who knows what would happen," I gulped.

Professor Rowan jumped in, "But that's just it! Before you can challenge the first gym, you have to go to Jubilife to be interviewed and introduced to the public, and then escorted to Oreburgh. Volkner, don't you see?"

"No?"

"You'll be nearly untouchable by Champion Lea. Once the public sees you and starts cheering for you, there's nothing he can do. If you just disappeared, he knows how it would reflect on him. We'll plan this out, Volkner, you just have to trust me."

And I did. It might have been the most reckless thing to try and defy Lea in such a huge way, and it might have been reckless to trust Professor Rowan after only knowing him for such a short time, but this was going to happen. I would be untouchable by Lea, and I could begin my journey as a trainer without fear of him—well, without fear of him killing me, but still with fear of him. But one admittedly cruel thought that I clung to: When I would see him face-to-face in the League building, I could kill Champion Lea.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Important Notice: I removed where Lea says "You're no longer Callousen" in the last chapter. I hate pointing that out, but it was a mistake on my part. Carry on.

I wanted to put out something smaller to give you a little break. The next few chapters should be longer, and covering some time. You all don't seem to mind longer chapters.

Thank you for reading!


	22. Restless

_Chapter Twenty-one: Restless_

"_Only Noble To Be Good"_

Watching the waves made me anxious. Watching the huge ocean, seeing how far it went, seeing that it was seemingly endless and probably bottomless made my blood boil and my hands twitch in my pockets. The frightening memories of nearly drowning—being pulled under and forced around as I lost consciousness and hallucinated—haunted me, even a month after the occurrence. I couldn't get close to the water without hyperventilating and swearing I could feel water in my lungs, mouth and nose. In my sleep I felt the burn of the saltwater as I inhale and swallow it, and then I wake up unable to breathe.

Professor Rowan didn't know about this, however. He didn't need to know about my fear of water. He would tell me I would get over it in time, anyways, and I knew I would get over it. I spent my whole life swimming in the same ocean that almost took my life; my fear would eventually ease.

A breeze came by, and I tightened my already-too-small coat around me. Sandgem was colder than Sunyshore. Not by much, but it was wintertime, and Sandgem got pretty breezy; just enough to need a small coat that Professor Rowan gave to me. It was slightly concerning that he had no idea where it came from, but I was thankful for it anyways. I had to wear a lot of borrowed clothes. In The Callousen we had uniforms that were provided for us, but now that I'm out and can't go home to get my clothes, I have to make do with the mismatched, never well-fitting clothing Professor Rowan can provide.

Life in Sandgem was the weirdest to adapt to. I adapted to The Shadows, The Underground and Snowpoint better than Sandgem. Professor Rowan had picked up on the fact that I was struggling to adapt—he picks up on most things, and it's sort of annoying—and kept me busy with chores around the lab whenever we weren't training. He makes me do all of the cleaning, and assist him in any of his _projects, _as he calls them. He made a comment about me not being able to adapt well because the reality of me almost dying and the fact that I could still die if Lea wants is still setting in. He made another comment about it saying I couldn't adapt because The Callousen drills in the lifestyle so quickly, harshly and efficiently to make it so adapting to anything else is very difficult. Frankly, I agree with the latter. That makes me think of Flint. If I had so much trouble adapting to normalcy, he—who was in longer than I was—would have even more trouble. Maybe he was right in thinking that there wasn't a life for him outside of the Callousen World. Maybe there wasn't a life for me, either, and I should have listened to him.

Sighing, I shook my head. "This is right," I told myself. Then why did it feel so wrong?

Padding back towards the small town, I tried to get those thoughts out of my head, but it wasn't easy. This was the first time I was alone for any length of time. Professor had to make a day trip to Jubilife to buy supplies and other things, and I had the day to myself. That led to thinking that I didn't want to think about. I began thinking about that day in the Center with Professor Rowan. After he said I could come back to the lab with him and live there while I train and prepare to challenge the gym, the nurses came back in to check on me and were asking for my name. I didn't want Volkner Parley on any files in that Center, just in case Lea has access to that, so I used the first name that came to mind: Ben Dover. Professor Rowan rolled his eyes, and I snickered as soon as the nurses left. That was when he first started to regret taking me in.

The next morning, we wasted no time. As soon as I was let out of the Center (and Professor bought me a shirt and shorts, since he didn't want me walking around in ruined Guard garb) we took off towards Sandgem. He asked me: "And you don't want to see your family before you leave? I'm sure they would keep your secret." But I said I didn't want to see them, and we left.

The flight was long, but nice. The freedom felt better than I anticipated. Professor Rowan has two Staraptors, Champ and Stormy. Champ is his favored Pokémon. He raised him from an egg, he said, and the bond they have is incredible. Champ hangs out in the lab, and Professor treats him like an honored guest. Stormy was also raised from an egg, and Professor quite adores her, but not like he does with Champ. He also has a Shuckle that he studies, named Juicer, because he has a notorious habit of getting into Professor's berry plants and juicing all of the berries. Being around Pokémon again felt natural, and made me miss my Pokémon.

The next day after settling in Sandgem, I brought up getting my Pokémon back to Professor.

"You want to _what?" _he asked.

"Fly to Snowpoint and get my Pokémon back…If they're not destroyed, that is," I explained, "I need to get them if they're okay. I couldn't forgive myself if I knew they were still around and I hadn't tried to get them back."

"It's dangerous," he said.

"It is," I admitted, "but all I have to do is fly in at night, wait until morning, and try to get ahold of Flint and ask him if he can get my Pokémon. I have a friend on the outside that can help, Zoey is—"

"There it is!" he exclaimed.

"What?" I looked around.

"There's a girl involved. Is that the real reason you want to go back there?"

"_No! _I actually want my Pokémon!" And seeing Zoey would be an added bonus.

He smirked but nodded, "It sounds dangerous…Yet exciting. I would like to accompany you there, though. Just for the flight, but I'm not going near any compound," he shook his head and made a face of disgust.

Honestly I wanted to go alone, but he joining wouldn't be the worst idea, especially because I doubted if I could find my way to Snowpoint on my own. So, the very next day, after hours of gathering things and getting the lab to a point where Professor could temporarily leave it again, we started our journey to Snowpoint.

We made it to Coronet, and Professor insisted that we take another route. Instead of flying all the way there, we ended up taking a two day trek through Coronet Mountain. Professor Rowan was more than prepared for anything we had to face during that journey, so it wasn't a terrible trip. Nothing like the first time I went to Snowpoint.

Once we were there, Professor went to check into the Center. "Why can't you stay with me?" he asked.

"The Center workers will recognize me. I can't risk it," I answered.

"Then we'll have to get you in there some way…" he put his hand to his mustache as he thought.

Since I was already in an over-sized winter jacket, it wasn't difficult for Professor Rowan to stuff his sleeping bag in it, making me look twice my size. He rifled through his backpack before pulling out a ridiculously big floppy hat and placing it on my head. "Why do you even have—"

"No time for questions," he muttered, and continued rifling through his things. Next, he pulled out a mustache—much like his own—and stuck it on my face. "There. Unrecognizable."

"Professor…This mustache…Why does it…Why do you…?" Then a thought dawned on me, and I couldn't control it when I yelled: _"You wear a fake mustache and bring extras with you!"_

"What?! That's simply ridiculous." His face turned a shade of pink.

"Your act isn't fooling me, Professor! This mustache is identical to the one on your face! Is that why it was crooked this morning when—"

"Focus, Volkner!" he scolded. He seemed genuinely angry, so I shut up, but even then I couldn't help but laugh. He lovingly stroked his 'stache as we waited for a room key.

After a few hours of sleep, we waited for the nurse to leave so I could sneak away without being in disguise. She left the front room, and I made my escape. When I was outside, I headed straight for the gym, paying close attention for any patrolling guards.

The gym, thankfully, was lit-up and warm when I stepped inside. And Zoey was there, but she was curled around Flint, and they were sleeping on the floor.

"Um, hello?" I yelled, confused at what—exactly—I was looking at. Flint stirred, and without opening his eyes, made a confused face. "Flint!" I yelled, and he scrambled to his feet, waking Zoey up. "What in the world are you doing? _This _is exactly why I got sent away! You should be at the compound!"

"Volk?!" he started for me, but slipped on the ice and landed on his butt.

"Volkner!" Zoey exclaimed, and slid past the fallen Flint. She started to hug me, but I put my hands up.

"Wait, what's going on here?" I motioned between the two of them, as Flint composed himself and skated over.

He ignored me, and body-slammed me into a hug. "Yo! We thought you were dead!" He let go of me and looked me in the eyes, "I thought you died." His eyes watered.

"Well, I'm here now," I said, and smirked.

"I just, I just don't understand!" he yelled, and looked at Zoey. She seemed as dumbstruck as he did. "What—how—why—I mean—yo!" He laughed, and a few tears rolled down his face. I laughed, too; because the intense realization that I was _alive _hit, and it was amazing.

"The ship I was on sunk," I began.

"Yeah! We know!" he interjected.

"But somehow, I ended up on Sunyshore, half-drowned and hallucinating. Professor Rowan found me, took me to the Center, and after a few days of recovering, took me to Sandgem so I could hide out and train before challenging the gyms," said I.

"What?!" Zoey gasped, "You'll die! That's dangerous! Lea will—"

"No," I cut her off, "he won't. That's the beauty of it. Once I'm Volkner the trainer instead of Volkner the guard, he won't be able to make me disappear off of the face of the planet."

"It's still so risky," Zoey said, "what if he makes you disappear anyways?"

"It is risky," I agreed, "but I lived once when I was supposed to die. Maybe I can do it again."

"Volk…Zoey has a point," Flint said.

"Yeah, she does, but don't tell me not to try. I've got someone on my side willing to help me make this happen. It's going to happen…I just need my Pokémon."

"Your Pokémon?" Flint echoed, "How did you know they're still alive?"

Shrugging, I replied: "I didn't. And I need your help."

He nodded, but then we stared at each other in silence. "I…" his voice lost its Flint flare, "I feel like I'm looking at a ghost."

Nodding, I said nothing, and hugged him tightly.

"Flint, you've got to go," I spoke, "What are you doing here? If they know you're missing—"

"They don't know. The commanders have been MIA lately. They've been leaving during the night, and some of us guards have been leaving shortly after them. They don't return until late morning."

For some reason, that made fear prickle at my skin. "What? That doesn't make any sense. That doesn't sound like something they would do. What are they doing? Why would they do that? Aren't you worried?"

"Of course we're worried," Zoey exclaimed, "we followed them the second night they did it…And they just went to the Lake and went out on a boat. It was so dark we couldn't see what they were doing. The scientists left the day you did, and Champion Lea left the next day. Ever since, the commanders leave without saying a word, and return without saying a word. It's…"

"Terrifying," Flint said, "It feels like something terrible is about to happen. Maybe there is going to be a war."

"Sounds to me like I have to get to work," I said.

Flint grinned. "Let's do this!"

* * *

"Commander _Mason _has my Pokémon?!"

"Yep. He told me he kept them, for whatever reason," Flint explained, and followed it up with a shrug.

"Well he is my uncle," I muttered, and both Zoey and Flint stared at me blankly.

"He's your what?" Flint squeaked.

"My uncle. He told me not to tell anyone, but yeah, he's my mom's brother."

"Well that's weird," he commented as we walked through the snow towards the Lake.

"That's them," Zoey suddenly whispered, and pulled us off to the side. We crouched behind some foliage and watched the three commanders march past. "They're going back to the compound a little early today," she turned towards Flint and placed a hand on his shoulder, "you have to get back. _Now." _He nodded and took off. She looked at me. "We'll follow them back. I guarantee that you'll find an opportunity to approach Mason." We nodded at each other, and began to follow the men.

Back at the compound, we watched from a distance as the commanders stood in a small group chatting. Shortly after, Commander Days and Commander Collins went into the warehouse, and Mason was walking towards the smaller one. I couldn't decide if that was my chance or not; until Zoey shoved a hand on my back. "What are you waiting for?!" she whispered, and I began climbing over the fence.

Mason heard the rattle of the chain-link and turned around. He stumbled backwards at the sight of me hastily approaching him. "Whoa—" was all he said before my knuckles met his jaw. The hit surprised both of us. He doubled-over in pain and I shook my throbbing hand. I didn't realize I had that much strength.

"That was for betraying me," I growled, and he composed himself.

"Good hit," he garbled, and then spit out some blood. "How are you—"

"If you're about to ask me how I'm doing, I'm _going _to punch you again."

He paused, "No, how are you _alive?_"

"No one really knows," I shrugged, "But I'm not here for chit chat, Mason. I need my Pokémon. Flint said you have them."

He nodded, "I do."

"Why? Why did you keep them? Didn't you want me to die? Wouldn't you want my Pokémon to die too?"

He sighed and rubbed his jaw, "I didn't want you to die, Volkner. I didn't think you would die. But I couldn't risk my position as a commander for you. I guess I kept your Pokémon because I felt like I owed it to you. When I heard that the ship sank and there were no survivors, the pain of losing my parents and my sister violently came ripping back into me. I felt like I had let Emily down by letting you die. And I…" he trailed off, "But I'm so glad you're alive." He threw his arms around me, and I was stunned.

"Well you're not wrong," I said, and stepped out of the hug, "you do owe _something _to me. Look, no one will ever know that you helped me. I just need my Pokémon."

He nodded. "The only person I told was Flint. Everyone else thinks your Pokémon were thrown into the ocean." He reached into his coat pockets and handed me two Pokéball's. "Pikachu and Luxio. Staravia didn't make it when he was…Shot."

Quickly I grabbed them. "You're a horrible person, Mason," I spit, and he said nothing in return.

* * *

Back at the gym, Zoey and I sat on the floor. "Don't you think that was harsh?" Zoey asked.

"What was?"

"What you said to Mason…You called him a horrible person."

"He _is _a horrible person, Zoey," I said, bitterly.

"No he's not, he was helping—"

"And what about you?!" I exploded, catching her completely baffled.

"What?" she gasped, looking confused and concerned.

"How long was I gone? How long did you think I was dead? If I'm remembering correctly, it's been seven days. It only takes seven days?"

"What only takes seven days?" she asked, but I could tell that she knew.

"To…Get over me," I said, and bit my lip.

She glared at me. "You _died, _Volkner. I thought you were gone forever! Do you understand the pain that I felt? Do you understand the pain that Flint felt?! We both wanted comfort and someone to rely on! Someone to turn to! And you know what? It's none of your business what Flint and I do when you're _dead." _

"But I'm not dead. And I wasn't dead. And this sucks!" We stared at each other briefly.

Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't care about him like I care about you." She reached out for me and placed her hand on my arm. She moved her face so I was looking her in the eyes. "I want _you_." Suddenly being angry at her didn't make any sense, and I felt stupid for yelling at her when I knew it wasn't her, it was me. And in that moment, Zoey looked beautiful and strong. I couldn't contain myself when I leaned over and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled herself closer. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but I only kissed her again.

"But what about when I have to leave," I suddenly said, and she looked taken aback. "For training, for my journey," I quickly added.

She nodded. "It'll be okay. Because I'll be here, waiting for you to challenge me."

"Waiting to lose?"

She raised her eyebrow, "Good luck with that." I laughed, and she laughed, and I stayed for a while. We didn't talk about my almost-death. We didn't talk about the guardsmen, Lea, or even Flint; we lay on the gym floor, kissing and snuggling, until we walked back to the Center. I told her to tell Flint to meet me here before the next morning so I could say goodbye, she scoped the area so I could sneak back to Professor Rowan's room, and we said goodbye for the final time before I would challenge her.

Later, there was a knock on my door. It was Flint, and we stepped outside.

"They didn't let me say goodbye," Flint said once we were outside.

"What?"

"Commander Days and Collins told me I couldn't say goodbye to you before they took you away. They wouldn't let anyone say goodbye. Tim wanted to, too, but we couldn't. That's why I never said goodbye."

"Oh," I nodded, "It's okay, I honestly never thought about it. Besides, didn't we say goodbye? When I was planning my _grand _escape?" I chuckled, and Flint rolled his eyes.

"You are _so stupid. _Or, somehow, a genius. I can't decide." He shrugged, and pulled out two cigarettes. "You need this," he said, and handed one to me. He lit it, and I inhaled the chemicals. Chills shot through me as my insides warmed up, and the comforting warmth ran to my brain and eased the headache I hadn't realized I had, and my muscles relaxed. When I exhaled it was a sigh of relief.

"I'll miss this," I murmured, and Flint laughed.

"No you won't Bro," he said, "you'll be busy livin' the dream!"

"Rebel guard that has to work towards his one enemy and possible death is the dream?"

He rolled his eyes again, "_No, _a trainer who gets to live a life filled with possibilities and…Freedom."

I paused. "I suppose it is, Flint. I wish you would come with me."

He shook his head and took another drag, "The difference between me and you is you can fight death and win. If I tried to fight death, I'd die."

Taking a moment to enjoy my smoke and think that over, I replied: "That sounds like an excuse. _Another _excuse. Why can't you go back with Professor Rowan and me, and challenge the gyms with me? We can train together! We can be out of Lea's touch together! We could do this," I pleaded.

"Hey," he smirked, "just go out and change the world. Change it so people like me have a chance; a real chance. I'm fine here. I'm under Lea's radar in a different way. I'll be okay, and I'll be rooting for you. You know what they say," he grinned.

"What?"

"You're Promising Guy."

I kicked his shin so hard his cigarette flew out of his hand as he doubled-over and shrieked. "What is with all the violence today?! Kicking me, punching Mason," he looked up at me, "Zoey told me about that, by the way, and that's kind of messed up. Pent-up aggression or what?"

"Maybe a little," I snickered, "but you have to admit it was funny when you screamed like a girl. Just like old times." I laughed again, but then coughed when I tried to smoke.

He stood up and glared at me. "Rude," he hit my shoulder, "Bad Volkner. You're a lot less promising now."

"Good! I've wanted that since I acquired that stupid name! That name should have drowned with me!" He grimaced. "Too soon?" I smiled sheepishly, and he just shook his head and finally cracked a smile.

"I'm glad you're alive, Bud," he said, "but I'm also glad you're finally leaving me alone."

Chuckling, I flicked the remains of my cigarette away. "Whatever will you do without me?"

"Have fun?" he offered, "You didn't like to have fun, even though, for such a promising individual, you got me in trouble a lot."

"_What? _Are you kidding? You were _always _the one getting _me _in trouble!"

He put his hand over his heart, "My word! How dare you accuse me of such things?! I was nothing if not a fragile flower caught up in your promising world of trouble!"

"That has to be the most bull crap to ever come from your mouth at one time," I responded.

"You'd be surprised," Flint returned.

Helplessly, I grinned, laughed and hugged Flint. "Goodbye, _Fragile Flower," _I said as he began to walk away.

He turned partially around and saluted, "Later, Promising Guy!" and then he chanted: "PKF! PKF! PKF!"

Chuckling, I entered back into the Center and returned to my room for sleep. Honestly I wouldn't miss Flint; I would be much, much too busy making a name for myself and working towards my goal.

* * *

Stepping into the lab, I shrugged off my coat and hung it up on a peg. The room was absolutely filled and looked like it hadn't been cleaned in its life. Professor asked me to clean it while he was away, but I had no idea where to begin. It was coated in white sheets of paper, overflowing folders and binders, and miscellaneous tools, equipment, and, honestly, things that I didn't recognize as things. The only furniture in the room was desks and examination tables. Cupboards and windows filled the walls, as well as a few pictures of old professors that have inhabited the lab in years past.

Once we returned from Snowpoint, I was sitting at one of the desks looking at the pictures. "Who are these people?" I asked.

"Who?" Professor looked up from busily writing something, "Oh!" He stood up and walked over to the pictures. "This is Professor Rhubarb. He was the Sinnoh Professor nearly forty years ago. I never met the man, only his workers and colleagues, and they tell me he was quite the character, while also being a great scientist. His specialty was Pokémon evolution and breeding, much like Professor Elm, and, well, much like myself. However, he didn't train much, and didn't really create bonds with his Pokémon. In his old age he lost his charming personality and pretty much ran off his workers."

"Is that why you work alone?"

He shook his head, "No, no. After he passed away, his colleagues didn't want to see this great place of learning and discovery die. So they fixed it back up and reopened it, slowly hiring inters and young scientists, one of them being me. We all loved work. There were many technicians and teachers and professors and doctors here. Sandgem finally blossomed, and put itself on the map. Unfortunately, when Lea became champion, our funds stopped and everyone slowly but surely left, except for me. They all got new jobs and moved to bigger and better places, but I was the only one willing to stay and not let Professor Rhubarb's lifework die. All of his findings and _everything _was still here. So I began with that, and to this day I'm still working through them and learning new things about them and completing them." He pointed to the next picture: a group shot taken in this room. "That was our group in our prime. That's me as a lab tech," he pointed, "that's my dear friend Winnie next to me. He was an assistant to a professor, and I was always just a little jealous of that title," he laughed.

"But now you're _the _professor, so who's the real winner?" I smirked.

He frowned. "Well, this position was more or less dropped into my lap. I'm not exactly taken very seriously by everyone in this region. Champion Lea, unlike most Champion's, doesn't make it an effort to show appreciation to the work I do, and he doesn't give me a chance to better Sinnoh. I'm no Professor Oak, but at least he has a say in Kanto, whereas I don't stand a chance against these Golden Scientists…" he stopped, and looked at me, "However, it's no matter," he waved his hand.

"Lea never offered you that position?" I questioned.

"As a Golden Scientist? Never, but I wouldn't have agreed to it anyways."

"From what I've heard they do awful things. When I was in the Callousen, they apparently pumped my Pokémon full of serums to make them painfully level up and grow rapidly in size."

He nodded, "I wouldn't put it past them. Their morals are nothing if not crude." He started walking towards the back, "Hungry?" he asked, and I nodded and followed. He led the way into a makeshift kitchen. He told me that when he decided to live at the lab, he turned what they called the breakroom into as much of a kitchen as he could. On top of that, he cleared out one of the bunkrooms that they kept around for any scientist or trainer that needed a place to stay and made into a personal bedroom. Otherwise, everything was tiled and riddled with syringes and ink pens. Seriously, Professor Rowan had an abundance of syringes and ink pens _everywhere_. I found one in my bunk. What I found was an ink pen, that is; not a syringe. That would be difficult for Professor to explain without admitting to a drug problem.

Alas, he didn't have a drug problem. A few days later, after a long training session with my Luxio and Pikachu against Champ and Stormy (we were making quite the progress), we sat at the tiny table in the kitchen eating brown noodles with brown beans and brown rice. It tasted just as appetizing as it sounded. Professor Rowan wasn't the best cook. In fact, most of the time everything was near tasteless, or had an after taste of old broccoli when we never ate broccoli. Luckily, thanks to Juicer, we had some tasty drinks to accompany the bland meals, but nevertheless, adjusting back to a vegetarian lifestyle wasn't satisfying. I craved meat, and Professor Rowan knew that. I also felt weak and tired, which meant that he gave me more chores and made me train way more to keep my mind off of it.

Feeling so unsatisfied and stressed would make me crave a cigarette as well. I constantly had a headache and I felt sore, even though I hadn't been working out, which also added onto my stress and my body feeling like it was breaking down on me. One night, I was feeling so terrible that I asked Professor Rowan for a cigarette.

He just slightly chuckled and said: "No can do, Volkner. Those are terrible, addictive things and you are better off without them. They are responsible for multiple diseases including heart failure and chronic respiratory disease." He stood up and bustled around the kitchen, then handed me a glass full of juice. "That's Oran Berry and Miracle Berry. Miracle Berries are hard to come by, so be thankful. This will curve your cravings and get you back to normal in no time."

Although I didn't believe him, I drank it all, and then by the next morning I felt refreshed and ready to go. After thanking him, I left off to train at the beach, and he was soon to join me. My Pokémon were getting higher in levels, he said, and soon I would have to catch more Pokémon. Unfortunately, my Pikachu didn't act the same with me, and Luxio was mostly reluctant to listen to me. Professor tied soothing bells to their necks, and that helped tremendously. "We're a work in progress," Professor always repeated, but this time he added: "Especially you," and looked at me.

"Well I no longer want to smoke, so—"

"Not just that. Your morals."

"My morals?"

"Yes," he said, "I'm afraid that your hard-heartedness is too great for you to see and recognize. Your thoughts are pretty backwards, and you don't see that, yet. But you'll get there, if you're willing to."

I was willing to. I knew that this journey was more than me becoming a trainer. It includes figuring out who I was, after my identity was ripped away from me twice. Once when Jeck took me away, and again when Lea shipped me away.

But still, that wasn't going to hinder my goals and step in front of me seeing an end to Lea.

* * *

**Note**: THE LEADER'S ORIGIN IS ONE YEAR OLD! I wanted this chapter to be done on its birthday, but...That didn't happen. This chapter was difficult to write, and although I'm not in love with it, I'm proud that I pushed through and successfully said all that I wanted to. Even if it's a big filler chapter. Oh well.

For its birthday, I drew new (temporary) cover art for it! I'm noooo artist, but! I drew Rayne and Zoey because frankly I wanted to see what they would look like, and I wanted you to see, too. I tried using FF's image editor to add in their names on their sides, but it DIDN'T WORK. Has anyone used the editor? Does it work? Am I missing something? Do I have to download something? Anyways, Zoey has black and white hair and is pale, and Rayne has the brown hair and is tan. I'm sure you could've figured that out, but yeah.

I'm really excited to hear some feedback. This portion of the story might be a little difficult for me to write, so please, any ideas/advice that you might have, I'd be more than willing to hear them! Any idea that you might have for this story to make it even more awesome, leave it in a review or shoot me a message. Of course, I may not listen to them because I do have a plot thought-out, but any addition you might have, I'd be more than interested to hear. I don't say that because I don't have anything planned, I say that because I feel like it would be interesting to hear and possibly I'd incorporate something in. Also, is there anything you are really hoping to see? Again: This is for my curiosity.

Enough of that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading. It's appreciated.


	23. Golden

_Chapter Twenty-two: Golden_

"_Only Noble To Be Good"_

Pikachu unleashed all of his pent-up electricity in a wave of lightning towards Stormy. It thundered down the beach and hit her, but not hard enough, because she was instantly shooting towards Pikachu and ramming him into the sand. She fell, seemingly took some recoil damage, but then got up and brought her large wing down on my Pokémon. He growled and jumped back into a battle stance. He pounced on her, took them both back to the ground, and a spark of electricity zapped her, causing her to flap her wings and rise up out of his reach. She then body slammed back down on him, and he weakly wiggled out from under her. She rose up again. Listening to my command, he began forming an Electro Ball in front of him. It formed very quickly, and then shot up to her faster then she could dodge. She took the hit, and fell to the ground. Pikachu pounced. She cawed and swung her wings, throwing him off of her. Pikachu still had some fight left in him. Sparks rippled through his body and then down the beach. Another successful Thunder Wave. Staraptor looked pretty beaten, but she quickly flew over Pikachu and slammed him again, and took more recoil damage. Pikachu was almost done, I feared.

After another few hits, Pikachu fainted, and Stormy, although she looked tired, stood victoriously. Professor complimented my efforts, and then told me to try again. I released Luxio from his Pokéball. He looked back towards me, and I made the first command: "Charge." He focused, and soon his body practically glowed from storing up energy and electricity. "Spark," I added, and he performed the move perfectly. Stormy was still fighting, and hit Luxio with Wing Attack and Take Down. He was already looking done, and Stormy was still looking fine. I attempted to finish her by hitting her with multiple Sparks and Bites, but she flew up into the sky weakly only after a few hits. "Charge and Spark!" I commanded again, and Luxio obeyed. The sparks hit her, and she crashed down to the ground; finally fainted. Professor clapped, quite sarcastically, and then released Champ.

My Pokémon and I barely stood a chance against the high in level Stormy, and I knew we _didn't _stand a chance against Champ. Professor didn't even call off a command, and Champ began wailing on Luxio. He then flapped his huge wings, causing Luxio to stumble due to the wind, and lifted into the air. Then, he pointed himself towards my Pokémon, tucked in his wings, burst into a mystic ball of blue flames and landed hard. Luxio was done for. "Good fight, Professor," I said as I returned Luxio.

"We're not done yet! You've still got one Pokémon!" he yelled, and smirked.

Groaning and face-palming, I started saying "You've got to be kidding, I'm not bringing out _that Pokémon _only for Champ to—"

"Just do it," Professor Rowan said and tapped his foot.

"_Fine!" _I huffed, and grabbed my third and final Pokéball. "_Pelipper," _I murmured, "let's go."

Pelipper, whom I caught a few weeks earlier, came out of the Pokéball dancing. He hopped around on his webbed feet and stretched out his large wings in a rhythmic fashion. I face-palmed again. The first time I released him from his Pokéball, I regretted it. He spastically stumbled about, flew in circles, and always had this habit of pecking my shins. At first, Professor Rowan was worried I had caught an underdeveloped Pokémon and would have told me to release him, but, unfortunately, that wasn't the case and Professor insisted that he was smart enough to learn and obey commands and I should keep him. That turned out to be true, but it wasn't easy, and I couldn't have trained him without Professor's help. It took a lot of coaxing with berries and peanuts—his favorite, gaining him the nickname Peanut—to train him, but then he turned out to be quite the fighter; just a little unusual.

"Okay, let's try Supersonic," I called, hoping for the best. Pelipper squawked excitedly, and then shot glowing rays from his mouth and they hit Champ. He fell sideways, and I was surprised that the move actually worked. "Fly!" I commanded, and Pelipper hit Champ pretty hard. Of course, this caused Champ to snap out of his confusion, and feverishly attack my Pokémon.

Champ was victorious, as to be expected, but Professor approached me afterwards and complimented my progress. Pikachu and Luxio had begun to trust me again, Peanut, although he was still touched in the head, had made amazing progress since I first had caught him.

Training was going well. On top of that, I was working in the lab and Professor was preparing me for the gyms. We had discussed different strategies for the different leaders, and everything was falling into place for me to take off.

"I can't go with you," Professor said as he handed me a backpack, "if anyone sees us walking into Jubilife together and Lea finds out…" he shook his head.

I slung the bag over my shoulder. "I'll be fine," I stated, and adjusted the heavy pack until it fit comfortably. "I can go alone."

He nodded, and gave me a hard look up and down. He rubbed something off of my shoulder. "Dirt," he muttered, and then clamped his hand on my arm. "Good luck. Be safe and alert, especially in Oreburgh and around compounds. You can take the gyms. Keep training and keep catching Pokémon. Don't write to me. Lea might want your letters intercepted. I'll catch up with you when I feel it's safe." I nodded.

"You're acting like this is my first day of school or something," I said, not knowing how else to respond. "Or like I'm headed off to war."

"That's not too far off," he responded taciturnly.

"I'll be fine," I repeated.

He grunted and placed his hand on his mustache. He then reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handful of cash.

"No," I held up my hand and shook my head, "you've done enough, Professor."

"It's not that much. This will give you enough for food until you start earning money from gyms. The first gym doesn't have winnings," he coaxed.

"Thank you," I spoke quietly and took the money, I _did _need it, after all, "for everything, Sir."

"It's no problem as long as you go out there and do what's needed. Don't just mess around."

"I know," I snapped, causing him to raise his eyebrow. I cleared my throat. "I know," I said, calmer, "I'll be smart."

"Yeah, a smart aleck maybe," he murmured.

"Wow, Professor Rowan's throwing shade," I grinned, "I think that's a defense mechanism. You don't want me to know how much you'll miss me."

"The only way I'll miss you is by—"

"—throwing something at me," I interrupted, and opened the front door of the lab, "I know, you've said that every day since we got back from Snowpoint a few months ago. That and 'tuck in your shirt, you look like a hooligan'."

"Am I wrong?" He raised his hands and shrugged.

I laughed and replied: "No, you're right. I do look like a hooligan. But I _am_ a hooligan, so it's okay." I stepped outside. "Bye Professor, I'll see you soon." I didn't look back, I just shut the door. After taking a deep breath of the salty-fresh air I started off.

The door creaked open, furiously, and I swung around and stopped. Professor Rowan hurled a ball of paper towards me, and it missed my left arm by less than an inch. I smirked at him. "I miss you too," I said.

He nodded, and added "You can do it. I believe in you."

Again, I took a deep breath. "Thanks," I closed my eyes, "I owe you one. Multiple one's." I opened them, and he waved goodbye before closing the door. I bent down and picked up the ball of paper, and opened it up. Through the wrinkles it read: _Champion Volkner Parley._

* * *

"And that's _it! _The battle is over!" The announcer proclaimed towards the camera. I looked back towards Byron, who stood with his arms crossed, looking like he couldn't care less about losing the battle. His Pokémon were tough, and he put up a good fight, seemingly tried to win.

Honestly the victory didn't feel as spectacular as I suspected. The best part about it was the relief that coursed through me. Relief that I was officially established as a trainer, and therefore untouchable or so we thought.

The announcer ran over to me and asked me how I was feeling. I answered, "Relieved," and laughed. I looked into the bulky camera and waved. I already had my official interview when I first got into Jubilife. Once I stepped into the television studio, I was asked if I was a trainer. There was a security guard standing just inside—dressed in a hot pink uniform, with silver hair and guy-liner—who excitedly said: "Oh my _goodness _tell me you're a trainer?!" And before I could answer he continued: "We haven't had a trainer in _ages! _You are, aren't you?! The backpack filled to the brim on your back, the Pokéballs attached to your pants, the horrendously matted and extremely puffy hair says it all!" He clapped his hands together. "This is so exciting. Let's get you to Constance!" He motioned for me to follow, and as we walked through the first floor, a crowd of people—some dressed in Golden City fashion, some normal and others in a mixture of both—gathered and watched the two of us walk into the elevator.

"I'm Rivers, but my friends call me Rusty," the security guard reached out his hand. I shook it.

"Volkner. Why do they call you Rusty? Especially when you have rhinestones covering your uniform collar," I smirked.

He shrugged. "I used to work on appliances before I was a security guard. When you're known for fixing up rusty toasters, you acquire nicknames like that…And don't disrespect my rhinestones, okay?" He ran a hand through his long silver hair.

"Alright," I murmured, and returned a shrug. The elevator went up to the top floor, and opened up to a room I easily recognized. Right in front of me was the huge setup where Jubilife News was recorded and broadcasted. I recognized the news anchors, who were sitting off to the side getting makeup put on and wigs fitted on their head.

"Attention," Rusty announced, "we have a trainer!" He grabbed my wrist and lifted my arm; proudly displaying me like I was his trophy. I tried to pull my arm away.

One girl who I had seen on TV before squealed, and ran over to me with her giant blonde wig sliding ever-so off kilter. "I can't _wait _to interview you! I'm Maxina," she straightened her back and puffed out her robust chest, "nice to meet you!" We shook hands.

"Volkner Parley," I introduced.

"And I'm Locus Lane," one of the television anchors said as he approached. He was tall, slim faced, and had a crooked smile filled with extremely white teeth and one gold one. He wore a purple suit that somehow didn't look completely ridiculous on him; probably because in the few minutes I had been exposed to this Golden City, I had seen worse. "Constance!" he called. One of the makeup ladies ran over. She looked normal enough, aside from the fact her face looked painted on. Everyone else scurried away to start the news, and Constance dragged me into what appeared to be a dressing room.

"Hi dear," she greeted as she sat me in a chair. Her voice was forced, and sounded faked.

"Constance, right?" I asked and she nodded. "I'm Volkner," I said, for what felt like the hundredth time.

"So Volkner," she began, "has anyone ever told you your hair is extremely puffy?" Her voice was so forced to be perky and energetic with a hint of Golden Accent that I thought it would crack within every word.

"I've heard that once or twice, yeah," I replied.

She raked a brush through it, caused my head to be ripped back and my neck crack. When she pulled the brush out of my hair, she turned my chair towards the mirror and revealed that my hair was now puffier than ever before. She groaned, and I held back a shriek. "Don't panic!" she said, to me and herself. She then pumped out product after product from multiple bottles of goo until my hair wasn't puffy. Instead it was flat, and lay against both sides of my face. "Aren't _you _handsome," she said, but I'm pretty sure it was to my hair. "Alright dear," she placed a hand on my face and examined me, "just a little bit of color on those cheeks—"

"Nope!" I objected, "There's _no way _you're putting makeup on me."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not going to be putting glitter on you or something! It would really make that lovely jawline and those cheekbones _pop_—"

"I think _not. _My face is fine the way it is."

She sighed and waved her hand, "You're lucky you have a pretty face. I'll pass on the makeup, but _I'm dressing you."_ She pointed to my loose sweatpants and white tee-shirt combo. "You look like you just crawled out of a dumpster."

After she dug around the big closet and I pleaded with her not to make me look ridiculous, she came out with an outfit I deemed as acceptable. "There!" she said once I stepped back into the room with my new garb. "It's simplistic. Like you!" she made big motions with her arms as she said: "The blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the black and gray vest, the dark denim jeans with the leather belt, and those swanky dress shoes all add up to _oooh la la!" _She pulled a comb out of her pocket and fiddled with my hair.

The door opened, "We're ready for him!" Maxina announced, and waited for Constance to push me out of the door.

"Be charming!" Constance commanded. I looked over my shoulder and shot her a wink and a smile. She snickered and rolled her eyes, "Good enough."

The show returned from commercial break, as Locus Lane said, and the interview began. They asked me where I was from and if I always wanted to be a trainer. I answered honestly: Sunyshore, and yes.

"Is it difficult being away from your family?" Maxina questioned.

The answer lumped in my throat. I wanted to avoid thinking about that. "Yeah," I choked out, "it's really difficult. I hope to see them soon." That last part surprised me. Did I actually _want _to see them, and that was my inner psyche coming to light? Or was I just trying to talk, since I had three cameras on me? Two things I didn't want to talk about.

"I hope you see them soon too," she cooed.

"But not too soon!" Locus Lane chattered, "Because we have a gym to challenge!"

That was the end of the interview, and we were off to Oreburgh in an underground train. I was nervous about being recognized by either guards or citizens, but thankfully that didn't happen. I spent the night in the Center after my battle, and then left for Jubilife early the next morning without any hesitation. The idea of going to the compound occurred to me late in the night when I couldn't sleep, but that would nearly be suicide. I was certain that Lea had seen or heard of that interview and _had _to know I was in Oreburgh. I was surprised guards hadn't come banging on my Center door. In a way, I guess that proved mine and Professor's theory: I was out of Lea's grasp.

Jubilife was as large as I always pictured. The buildings were tall, and everything was paved with brick walkways. There were restaurants and apartment buildings and businesses everywhere. The Center wasn't as big as Sunyshore's, though, and somewhere in me that made me prideful. I found a restaurant to eat at, and even though I was tempted to get something with meat in it, I stuck with a fully vegetarian meal with the addition of honey bread and milk.

Other than the people dressed in vibrant colors, the town wasn't too weird. I knew Hearthome would be worse since it housed crazy contest people, so I kept my judgments to a minimum. However, the people were the weirdest mixture of rude and perky, even when I was attempting to blend in with the clothes Constance gave me. As she said, I looked simplistic surrounded by these people.

Exploring the town, the most interesting thing I came across was seeing the giant wall that separates Hearthome from the rest of the world. I had to take a minute to stare at the multi-story wall with the Golden Cities logo painted on it. _How can a whole city want to keep everybody out like that? Do they really believe they're so high-and-mighty, or are they hiding from the real world? Hiding from reality? Hiding from places like Oreburgh; places that are falling apart and falling into despair. _

_ What has Lea created?_

* * *

**_Note:  
_**As always, I'm very eager to see the responses to this chapter. Most of you haven't read The Champion's Beginning (which is fine. That story is a mess), but I'm trying to portray the Golden Cities a bit differently since it's coming from Volkner instead of Cynthia. I want you all to see how Volkner interacts with them and how it's so different from Cynthia. For the record, I won't skip over all the battles. I did skip this one, though, because I knew it wouldn't have been interesting or entertaining and there was already a battle in this chapter. This chapter was a bit rushed, yeah, but that was intended. Please, tell me what you'd like to see from this story! I would love to hear it. Things are going to get good!

Thanks for reading!


	24. Blizzard

_Chapter Twenty-three: Blizzard_

"_Only Noble To Be Good"_

Most would get tangled or slowed down by the knee-length snow, but not me. I move smoothly and swiftly through the chunks of ice and the powdery snow that sits on top of it. I've learned how to do everything in the snow; it no longer hinders me.

The guards chasing me aren't having the same luck. The snow gets deeper, and they are falling down and struggling through. The blizzard picks up. Perfect. I don't have to see, I know the area well. I make it to the tree line, and up in a tree. I crouch and look down, and watch as the guards enter the forest, looking frazzled and lost. The Commanders bark commands, one even backhands the other, and I watch them trample through the snow and leave me behind.

"Zoey," I hear, and I nearly fall out of the tree due to the surprise. I look over to see Uncle Zaïre in the branch next to mine, almost completely blending into the snow. He wore a solid white robe with a hood that covered his black hair. That on top of his pasty white skin (We all have pasty white skin) made him nearly invisible. "Elder Zomi said she heard The Beings telling her you were unsafe, and she sent me to look for you. I'm glad I did. What have you gotten yourself into?!"

"Lea wants them to find me! I don't know why, but he does! When I went to see Flint, he warned me and told me to run. The next thing I knew, someone was grabbing him, and I took off. At first I was running towards the temple, but I knew I couldn't lead them there. Now they're running towards the deepest snow in Snowpoint down in the valley. With this blizzard, it'll take them hours to navigate back here."

He nodded. "Smart thinking Zoey, but you know better. At least this buys us some time."

"Yeah," I say, but then add: "For what, exactly?"

"The Elder's want these guards gone. And I think I have the plan to do it."

"What are we going to do?"

He looks at me and grins, "You'll see."

* * *

Volkner

Another day, another Gym Leader defeated.

Being back in Veilstone was surreal. As much as I wanted to forget my past, I couldn't. I awoke with nightmares both nights I stayed. I saw flashes of Commanders, Lea, Maroon, sprinting until puking, hands embracing my neck, my hair being yanked out, bruises covering my body, and worse, the people I had grown close to meeting the same fate as me.

Needless to say, I was excited about leaving this place. I hugged my backpack closer as I trekked through the streets. Veilstone definitely wasn't as glamourous during the day. Without the neon lights and the shadows of nightfall, Veilstone was left with dirty, broken roads and abandoned-looking shops, restaurants and clubs. Instead of hearing music flow from an opened and inviting door of a business, or from the instrument of a man standing in the alleyways and corners, I heard the boats in the nearby harbor and the yells of the disgruntled workmen. Guards weren't out this early, thankfully; and now I know why. There's nothing happening at this time of day. It even smelled differently than at night. At night, all you can smell is smoke, fried foods, alcohol, and strong perfumes. Now I could smell the ocean, the rain that had passed through, and the smell exuding from all the boats.

The lingering gray clouds above made this place as portentous as I thought it was. I shivered at the thought, and drew my hood over my head. It wouldn't be a terribly long walk to Pastoria, but it was much too familiar. The last time I walked this road, I was signing my soul away. I tried to distract myself.

The last week was packed full of traveling and gyms. After Byron, I went up to Eterna to challenge Serina. My newly caught Aipom was helpful against her Grass Type's, and I beat her. A large crowd formed at the gym, and they all cheered as I won. It felt like the trainer experience I always dreamed of. While there, I taught Peanut Fly, so my venture to Veilstone would be easier. While it was easier, he's not the best at flying with me. So I had to make many stops and even spent the night on Coronet, something I hoped I would never have to do again. The next Leader, Rhy, a Flying Type Trainer, didn't stand a chance against Pikachu and Luxio, and I felt that he knew it; it angered him, making him miscall some attacks, giving me a larger advantage. I wasn't sure what the next Gym Leader would have. While with Professor Rowan we researched all of the Leader's, and Blake of Pastoria hardly had any information out there. We saw his past battling records, and he had only lost once. His Pokémon were different each time. Of course, the battles were years apart. It was a mystery as to what he would have now, but I wasn't concerned.

On the walk I stopped for some training. My Aipom was growing pretty rapidly, and we had bonded well in the short time I've had him. Pikachu and Luxio were forces to be reckoned with, and I hoped that Luxio was getting close to evolving.

Afterwards, I started my walk again. The signs lead me to believe that I was getting closer to Pastoria, and I knew I was ready to challenge the gym.

* * *

Zoey

"This might work," I say, as I gawk at the large line of Guardians standing in front of the forest. They had their swords drawn; they were prepared for battle. But we weren't expecting a battle to break out.

"Of course it will work, we have The Beings on our side," Elder Zomi said.

I looked at her, "I thought they were in hiding?"

"Oh, they are. But that doesn't mean they're incapable of showing their powers." She squinted, and looked out towards the trees. "They're approaching," she said, calmly. We both put our hoods up and drew our swords. The guards exited the forest and looked in amazement at all of us. They began to charge at us, but then they all fell to the ground. The ground rippled with power underneath them, and they screamed. I heard Flint's voice, and my heart fell. But I couldn't let that stand in the way.

All at once, they levitated up. You could see the confusion and fear written all over their faces. I recognized one of them as Champion Lea's advisor. Good, he needed to see this.

An ominous voice rumbled through the field. "_LEAVE THE SACRED CITY, THIS GROUND IS FOREVER CURSED AND RUINED DUE TO CHAMPION LEA'S PRESENCE, AND WE WILL UNLEASH THE SAME CURSE UPON HIM!" _

Our swords began to glow black, and as I looked around I noticed our eyes did also. The guards dropped suddenly and smacked the ground. In the blink of an eye, we became invisible. They all gasped and scrambled to their feet. "Back to the compound!" Lea's advisor yelled. Just as they began to run away, we reappeared, and pointed our swords at them.

"Leave this place tonight!" we said in unison. They fled, and we returned to the temple.

Uncle Zaïre and I sat with Elder Zomi as she tried to communicate with The Beings. "T…The guards…They're leaving. The Beings are telling me that Champion Lea gave the official word, they're leaving our home." The three of us smiled at each other, but Zomi quickly grimaced. "No!" she yelled, "You can't!" she pleaded.

"What is it, Elder?" I moved closer to her.

"The Beings, they want to cut contact with me. They say it's unsafe to be so revealed. They say they're in grave danger. They…they…" she bit her lip. "They need to find The Chosen One." She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"Who is it, then? The Chosen One?" Zaïre asked. "Because Zoey—"

"No, it can't be a Guardian. We defend. We don't fight," she said sternly. He nodded, understanding her point. "It has to be someone strong enough to overthrow Champion Lea."

"Volkner," the name tumbled from my mouth, "it can be Volkner. He's becoming one of the strongest trainers Sinnoh has ever seen, he's well on his way to beating Lea."

Elder Zomi nodded. "Yes, Volkner." She let out a deep breath and sunk out of her perfect posture. "And with that, they're gone," her voice was weak.

"So The Chosen One is whoever overthrows Champion Lea?" Uncle Zaïre asked.

Elder Zomi looked towards the fire burning in the fireplace. "This is much bigger than Champion Lea, I fear. This is much bigger than all of us. I don't know if Volkner can do it."

"He can. And he will." I stood up, "I have to tell him."

"No, Zoey," Zomi barked, "not just yet. He's not ready to know. And he's not safe, either."

"Not safe? Not safe from Lea?"

"He's in the public eye," Zaïre said, "Lea would ruin his _good reputation _if something happened to Volkner."

"Lea is on the prowl for The Beings. He knows how vulnerable he is without them, and that probably scares him." Zomi added.

"But he could also be distracted by his hunt, which is also better for Volkner," I said.

"It's not Lea I'm worried about." Zomi sighed and put her fingers to her temples. "I can't help but feel a little lost without them," she muttered, and then continued: "Nevertheless, we will do whatever it takes to protect Volkner, especially if he is The Chosen One."

* * *

Volkner 

I snored so loud I woke myself up.

"Pika Pika," Pikachu greeted, and hopped up on the bed.

Yawning, I said: "Taking a nap before challenging the gym was a good idea, wasn't it, Bud?" I patted his head, and he wagged his tail excitedly. "Yup, that's right, we're challenging the gym today!" I exclaimed, and then I heard a loud thud. I sat up in my Center bed to see Peanut flopping around on the ground. Apparently he had rolled off the couch. "Smooth, Peanut. You know you have wings, right?" He cocked his head at me and squawked. "Whatever." Luxio crawled out from under the bed and purred; electricity zapped from his cheeks as he did. I reached down and stroked his back. "Time to get moving," I said, and stretched. I returned all the Pokémon into their Pokéballs and took a shower. I threw my pack on my back and attached the Pokéballs to my belt loops.

As I walked into the Center lobby, I noticed that it was completely empty. Pastoria wasn't the biggest town, but this seemed very unusual. Not even a worker was to be seen.

Suddenly all the lights shut off. It was eerily dark. My hand instinctively went to Pikachu's Pokéball, but I quickly thought against releasing him; it was probably unsafe for him. The light kicked on just as someone grabbed my sweatshirt collar. I gasped. I stared right at a face covered by a white mask.

"Hello, _Chosen One_."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Officially off of my hiatus. I needed a break from this story. I rewrote the prologue, so you should go check that out and tell me what you think.

Cynthia's Letters update soon! Thanks for reading!


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